


I Don't Sweat, I Glisten

by CrowleyLovesUSUK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Destiel, Barebacking, Buttercream is Cute AF, Dirty Talk, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gabriel Being Gabriel (Supernatural), Gabriel in Spandex, Gyms, Hate to Love, Jock Straps, M/M, Mentions of extreme religious views, Practical Jokes, Prank War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24339292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleyLovesUSUK/pseuds/CrowleyLovesUSUK
Summary: Sam Winchester is quite content working at his foster father’s gym and running his beloved yoga classes.  The last thing that he ever expected, was that his brother Dean would go behind his back and hire a sugar-addicted psycho named Gabriel to run a trendy fitness class called The Eden Slide. Sam hates craze classes, especially the kind with loud, awful pop music bumping away for forty-five minutes. When one too many of Sam’s yoga classes is disrupted by Gabriel’s Senior Slide’s loud music, things come to blows.  It doesn’t look like there will be enough room at Singer Fitness for both Sam and Gabriel.  Something is going to have to give.The only real question now is, who will ‘bend’ first...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 142
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DeanansCas4Eva28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanansCas4Eva28/gifts).



> Hey!!  
> So this little nugget popped into my brain and wouldn't leave. It was annoying me, so I wrote it down. This is absolutely NOT finished in any way, which means that the updating will be completely random. For this, I am sorry. It'll be fine...I think...
> 
> Exactly two years ago yesterday, I wrote my very first attempt at Sabriel and it changed my life. And exactly two years ago today, I posted said first Sabriel fic. So this is my Sabriel Anniversary fic for myself.
> 
> This is also a gift for my friend [Link text](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanansCas4Eva28) ‘DeanansCas4Eva28, who is an amazing person and an amazing friend! She got me an RSJ cameo when I was dealing with a lot and it seriously made my year. She deserves all the love! So I hope you like this, lady! 😂🤣
> 
> First off! I will be adding tags to this as I go along. There will be explicitness in this story as well. As of this point, I haven't decided if the Destiel will be equal or more background, but it will be there. Seriously, as of now, (May 23, 2020), I only have this first chapter down and I have no idea where it is going, so this is like a terrifying, yet fun journey, akin to a roller coaster.
> 
> Secondly! There are mentions of extreme religious views in this fic and there will be some plot points that involve said stuff. If you are triggered or squicked by this, I'm letting you know, and please do what is best for you and your mental health. Nothing will be super graphic about it, mostly verbal etc at this point, but it will feature in some of the angst. 
> 
> Thirdly--I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters. They're just having me over for tea, and I am refusing to leave.
> 
> Fourth is a fun fact, the doggo in the cover art is my little jack russell terrier, Inga, and she is the inspiration for Buttercream.
> 
> And lastly...who is ready to see Gabriel in a spandex unitard? Raise your hands...wiggle them around in the air...Okay cool, seems like there's a lot of you. I want to see it too, which is why I wrote this.
> 
> Remember to wipe down the gym equipment when you're finished and OFF WE GO...

There were a few things in life that Sam Winchester was absolutely certain about. 

He would always defend kale as a nutrient rich superfood. He knew that his brother Dean’s diet would eventually clog his arteries, no matter how much Dean worked out. Also, that he and Dean really needed to hire an accountant to do their books for the gym. And lastly, Sam knew without a doubt that he _hated_ Gabriel Novak. 

Every few years a new fitness craze would sweep the nation, and the current class du jour was called The Eden Slide. Sam had quite a few things to say about Eden, and all of it was bad. He didn’t think that they trained their instructors well enough. He felt that the class participants were set up to fail. And Sam also stood by the belief that Eden was a scam for gym owners to dupe their clients out of cash for a ‘popular’ workout. Which was why he'd made Dean promise that they wouldn’t offer any Eden Slide classes at Singer Fitness.

He should have gotten it in writing.

Hindsight being twenty-twenty and all that, though. The gym, owned by their foster father, Bobby Singer, was a pretty bare-bones facility. They offered a few fitness classes such as dance, strength training, and yoga; along with their personal training programs. Before Sam and Dean had grown up, passed their certifications, and joined ‘the family business,’ Singer’s hadn’t offered _any_ classes. Dean had pushed for the strength and agility classes, while Sam had begged to be allowed to teach yoga. Bobby had just rolled his eyes and told them that as long as they were bringing in business that they could do whatever they wanted. A few years later, they’d added some barre and jazz classes when Dean’s best friend, Charlie, joined them. 

All in all, the Winchester brothers were doing a damn good job keeping Bobby’s precious gym afloat in lean times. Every once in a while, someone would come in and ask about Zumba, Jazzercize, Tae Bo or Eden—whatever the current craze—and they would be disappointed when they discovered that Singer’s didn’t offer them. That was when Dean started to point out that they were losing potential memberships. It was also when Sam made his brother promise to leave well enough alone. 

As far as they knew, the gym was doing well, and in Sam’s opinion, a few missed clients were better than having to deal with the kinds of people who took classes like Eden. Sam was more than content to do his private training sessions and run his yoga rooms—he wanted nothing to do with a flash-in-the-pan fitness trend. 

The end of Sam’s perfectly healthy—and _quiet_ —lifestyle, as well as the moment that he picked up an arch-nemesis, arrived on a perfectly normal Tuesday in February. Valentine’s Day, to be exact. 

When Sam arrived at work that morning he set up for his eight am class, making sure that everything would go smoothly. By eight fifteen, his class had been ruined. The fitness room next to Sam’s yoga studio was rarely used, but for some reason there was a class going on at the same time and Sam’s—and they were _blasting_ their music. 

Every base bump and repetitive sugary pop beat could be heard clearly through the walls, even going so far as to vibrate along the floor while Sam’s group were all in Child’s Pose. Not only was it annoying, but the music choices sucked as well. Sam was confused because he didn’t know who would be playing such crap. Dean and Charlie both had similar, (and great), taste, so it wouldn’t be one of them. It definitely wasn’t Bobby. Their foster father rarely came in, and didn’t teach any group classes—he also wouldn’t be caught dead listening to Britney Spears. At least...Sam didn’t _think_ Bobby would put on the Queen of Pop. 

Despite the disruption, Sam continued his class and apologized to his clients at the end. By the time he’d cleaned up and wiped down the room, the studio next door was empty. 

It happened again that afternoon, and the next day as well. By Friday, Sam was at the end of his rope. If he had to listen to one more bubbly singer from the nineties he was going to commit murder. His last class had to sit through ‘Mambo Number Five’ _and_ ‘Barbie Girl.’ There was no way that Sam could stand another day of this. And he still had no idea who it was. 

That afternoon, Sam began his Wind Down From the Week Class, hoping that it would give him a little zen of his own. Unfortunately, twenty minutes in, Britney Spears came through the walls again, asking someone to hit her. _What the fuck_?

“You know what?” Sam suddenly said to his class. That’s it.” He got to his feet, explained that he would be right back, and stormed over to the next studio.

There was a small class going on, music bumping. Through the floor to ceiling glass walls, Sam could see that the clients were all senior citizens dressed in workout gear as they shuffled along with the music. At the front of the group was the instructor—someone that Sam had never seen before. The man was short, with floppy golden hair and muscular arms. For some horrifying reason, he was wearing a neon pink unitard that looked like something straight out of the eighties. Sam noticed a small belly bulge, and he did a double take on the much larger one below the guy’s belt. Seriously? He wasn’t hiding _anything_ in that get up. 

Despite his anger, Sam still noticed that the guy was attractive. Obviously compact, strong and limber, with boundless energy; not to mention the massive lumps in his spandex—he was _just_ Sam’s type. With the exception of his shitty taste in music, and the fact that he was disrupting Sam’s own class. 

The guy was bouncing around and leading the old folks in some sort of dance step. As Sam watched, the vague choreography triggered something in his memory and he _knew_ where he’d seen those moves before. It was a goddamn Eden Slide class. _In Singer’s Gym_! What the hell was going on?

Without a thought, Sam pulled the door to the classroom open and stormed inside. A few of the clients stopped their dancing to watch him, but the man running the class kept gyrating away as though he didn’t see the six foot four man glaring at him. 

Sam got right up into the guy’s space and looked over him until he finally stopped flapping around and finally looked up at him. “Hey there, Sasquatch,” he said. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” Sam snapped. “You can turn off this music and leave.”

The man’s eyes twinkled maliciously and Sam had the uneasy feeling that meant he had just gotten in over his head. “And if I say no?”

“You can’t. I work here and I’m telling you that you have to leave.”

“What a coincidence,” the guy said. “I work here too.”

Sam furrowed his brow and took a small step backward. “What? No you don’t.”

“Sorry to disappoint, kiddo, but yeah, I do.”

“Who hired you?” Sam narrowed his eyes. 

“Dean,” the man shrugged. “I interviewed last week with him. So if you have an issue with me, go take it up with your boss.”

“Dean is _not_ my boss,” Sam snapped. 

“I don’t care, Moose,” the guy said. “Not my problem. Now, can you please clear out so my spry and sassy seniors can finish their workout?”

Sam was livid. How could Dean do this? He _knew_ how Sam felt about Eden Slide. He _knew!_ And besides, they had agreed that all hiring decisions would be made by both of them. Dean had gone behind his back and hired this lunatic on a sugar high to teach the _one_ class that Sam despised. He wanted to punch something. Hard. 

By now, the entire class of elderly clients were watching the exchange as though it were a popular soap opera. “You need to turn down the music,” Sam said finally. 

“Why?”

“Look—“ Sam started, but cut himself off when he realized he didn’t even know this guy’s name. 

“Gabriel,” the guy supplied. 

“Gabriel,” Sam said. “You can’t have the music this loud. You’re disturbing the zen of my class!”

“Holy shit, kiddo, really? The _zen_ of your class? Are you always this pretentious, or is today just special?” Gabriel was smirking up at him with his arms crossed and his hips thrust out so that Sam’s eyes kept dragging down to stare at the man’s crotch. 

“What? I’m not pretentious,” Sam said, insulted. “I’m a yoga teacher.”

“That’s code for bougie loser,” Gabriel smiled thinly. 

“What did you call me?”

Gabriel waved his hand airly. “You heard me, kiddo. Look,” he barreled on before Sam could speak. “This is my Seniors Class and I need the music turned up so they can actually hear it. Tell your class to wear their air pods or better yet, learn to deal. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on a schedule.” 

Without a word, Gabriel started bopping around to the music again, calling out instructions to his class. The elderly group began to follow along, all of them now ignoring Sam who was still fuming at the front of the room. When he finally gathered himself and realized that this _Gabriel_ character wasn’t going to budge or engage with him again, Sam stomped loudly out of the room and slammed the door. He knew it was childish but he was so freaking _furious_ about the whole situation. 

He returned to his own class and apologized for the delay. As he guided his class through Crane Pose, Sam fumed, as the music next door remained at full blast. By the end of his class, Sam was anything but relaxed. As he said goodbye to his regular students, Sam knew that he was going to have to confront Dean about this whole situation. It wasn’t something that he looked forward to. However, for the sake of Sam’s sanity, it was a necessary evil. 

Dealing with his brother wasn’t going to be fun, so he might as well get it over with. Sam walked down the hall toward Dean’s office, continually clenching his fists. When he arrived, he barged in without knocking, since Dean constantly did the same to him. As soon as he was inside the tiny space, Sam’s eyes fell onto Gabriel who was sitting in one of the guest chairs, legs crossed, ankle resting on his knee, as he spoke animatedly with Sam’s brother. 

Dean looked up with a grin and saw Sam staring at Gabriel. “Hey Sammy,” he chirped. “Have you met Gabe?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Gabe had to admit that when the giant muscle bound Disney-Prince-looking kid barged into his class, his first reaction had been to wolf whistle and ask the other man out. Once the tall drink of sexy opened his mouth though, the attraction dimmed slightly. 

It was a shame really. The yoga teacher was one of the hottest pieces of man meat that Gabe had ever laid eyes on, but of course he was a boring, joyless creature—not unlike Gabriel’s own brother, Castiel. What kind of person tried to kick out a bunch of senior citizens getting their daily exercise? A monster, that’s who. Sure, Gabriel knew that his music was a bit loud, but as he’d explained, those golden oldies flapping around in his class needed to _hear_ the music in order to do the routine. He wasn’t about to budge on that. He loved his classes and his students. Especially the old folks. They had such joie de vivre—not like the sexy spoilsport yoga guru next door.

Hot didn’t make up for killjoy in Gabriel’s book. After his class ended and the old ladies stopped gushing over him with their gnarled fingers pinching his cheeks, (both on his face and those located elsewhere), Gabriel wandered down the hallway to Dean’s office. 

In the week that he’d been working at Singer Fitness, Gabriel and Dean had been spending quite a bit of time together. The interview had lasted about ten minutes before Dean offered the use of the empty studio and a great salary, followed up by the two of them shooting the shit in Dean’s office for almost two hours. Both of them had a similar sense of humor, and enjoyed the finer things in life. If by finer, it meant the pretty men and women they encountered in their business. Plus, despite working in the fitness world, Dean ate like crap as well, so he hadn’t picked on Gabriel for consuming his body weight in candy. He didn’t have a leg to stand on, when his regular lunch order was a double butter burger with fries. During the gym’s downtime, Gabriel and Dean had become...friends. 

Dean was on a call when Gabe hopped into the room and flopped into his usual chair, crossing his legs patiently. A few moments later, Dean hung up and grinned at him. “So? How’d week one go?”

“Pretty good for the most part,” Gabe smiled. 

“Good,” Dean said. “Great. That’s good to hear.”

They began to chat a bit about adding another class to Gabe’s schedule before they went off on a tangent about which Star Wars ship was the best. Dean argued for the Millenium Falcon, (“No one is better than Han Solo, dude!”). While Gabriel made a case for Boba Fett’s ship, the Slave I, (“Seismic Charges, Dean-o. Ya can’t beat it!”). At least they both agreed that podracers were the worst.

They had just begun to discuss their views on Ewoks when the office door opened to reveal the drool-worthy class-crasher from earlier. Gabe hadn’t managed to get the kid’s name with the whole ‘posturing over their territory’ thing. An unspoken question that was answered when Dean smiled at the guy and said, “Hey, Sammy! Have you met Gabe?”

_Sammy_?

Gabriel immediately did his best to hide his surprise and irritation. So the Yoginator was Dean’s little brother. The _other_ Winchester. The other Winchester who had an equal say as Dean over hiring. _Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!_ This had the potential to screw up everything! Raspberries.

Sam pinched his lips, which should have made him less attractive, but it didn’t. He still looked damn fine to Gabriel. _Well that was just fucking fantabulous._ The taller man slid into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “Yes, Dean. I _have_ met... _Gabe_.”

Gabriel figured that he’d at least _try_ to rectify their first meeting. He hopped to his feet and stuck out his hand toward Sam. “Gabe, Gabriel, Trickster, Loki, Gabester, Gabarino, Tricky Dick—I’ll answer to anything. Just don’t call me Shurley.”

Dean laughed. “Shirley? Like ‘ _Airplane_?’ Great movie.”

Sam still hadn’t shaken his hand, only narrowed his eyes, so Gabriel pulled it back and glanced between the brothers. “Well yeah, but it’s a play on words too—my old man’s last name was Shurley. No ‘I.’”

“I thought your last name was Novak?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gabe said, faux casual, returning to his seat. “My dad’s a religious nutbag and a homophobe on top of it. Well...not so much now, I guess. Anyway, my brothers and I didn’t really want to be associated with him, so we changed it to our mother’s maiden name.”

Sam’s eyes widened and he stepped into the room further, sinking slowly into the seat next to Gabriel. “Wait, are you talking about the televangelist, ‘Pastor Chuck?’ The guy who married a seventeen year old girl from his congregation? And then when their kids were born, he claimed they were all immaculately conceived?”

“Oh damn, that’s right,” Dean snapped his fingers in recognition. “He made the news back when gay marriage was legalized.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “He was always going off about how ‘the sodomites are a plague upon mankind who will feast on us all.’”

“Yeah, and the Internet went nuts about how they wish a gay was ‘feasting’ on them,” Dean laughed, and Sam shook his head in amusement, but didn’t make a sound. 

Gabriel clapped his hands together and said, “Yup, that would be dear old daddy-o. Big bag of dicks.”

“No wonder you changed your name, man,” Dean said. The three of them fell quiet for a moment before Dean looked at his brother and asked, “Oh yeah, Sam—what did you need me for?”

Sam’s eyes darted to Gabriel for a split second before he said, “I need to talk to you about some new employees.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “We only have one new employee. Gabe,” Dean pointed at him.

In his lap, Sam’s hands clenched into fists and Gabriel knew that Sexy Sammy didn’t want to start afresh. Just great. This could get ugly because Gabriel wasn’t about to back down. He _needed_ this job—and he was actually _good_ at it. “Dean,” Sam said through his teeth.

“Sam,” Dean responded looking at his brother as though Sam were crazy. 

“He means that he wants to talk about me,” Gabe piped up. 

“Why? You just met him.”

“No, Dean—we met earlier,” Sam explained. “He disrupted my Wind Down Class with his irritating Top Forty Rejects.”

“Woah, kiddo,” Gabe turned toward Sam and held up his hands. “None of those tunes were _rejected_ from anything. I only play the top of the charts.”

“From nineteen ninety-seven,” Sam snarked. 

“Just because you weren’t born yet, kiddo, doesn’t mean it’s not good music.”

Sam huffed. “I was alive in ninety-seven.”

“Sure you were.”

“You’re even more annoying without the music—I’m not sure how that’s possible,” Sam said.

“Ya know, if you get into Downward Dog, someone might be able to get that stick out of your ass, kiddo,” Gabriel sniped back. 

Sam sputtered, his face flushing. It was actually sort of cute. “Oh my god, you are such a _dick_ ,” Sam finally said. 

“I’ve been told it’s my best feature,” Gabriel couldn’t resist the wink.

Turning in his seat, Sam glared daggers are Dean, who was watching them silently, face red from holding back laughter. Sam looked straight at his brother and said, “He’s not working here, and that’s final.”

Dean shrugged, trying to look apologetic and failing. “Bobby already approved.”

If it was possible, Sam’s face became even more serious, and his knuckles went white where he continuously clenched his fists. “Fine,” he grit out. “I’ll talk to Bobby then.” He turned and glared at Gabe. “Don’t get comfortable—you’ll be out the door as soon as possible.”

“Sure, kiddo,” Gabe said teasingly. “Good luck. It was a pleasure to see the full extent of your Un-Fun-Ness.”

Sam gave both him and Dean one last dirty look before huffing and stomping out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Leaning back in his chair, Dean put his hands behind his head and whistled. “Wow, takes a lot to get Sammy that riled up,” he commented. 

“What can I say? I have a gift for pissing people off,” Gabe grinned. “You didn’t tell me that your baby bro was just as sexy as you, Dean-o. Way to catch a guy with his pants down.”

“Gabe, I saw you coming out of the shower the other day,” Dean said. “If your pants had been down, Sammy would have been a whole hell of a lot nicer.”

Throwing his head back and laughing loudly, Gabriel waggled his finger at Dean. “You flatter me, you know.”

The two of them laughed before Dean schooled his features. “Look, if I know my brother—and I do—he’s gonna go to Bobby and try to get you fired.” Before Gabriel could say anything, Dean went on. “I doubt you have anything to worry about, your classes are bringing in a fuck ton of new members and Bobby knows it. We can just move your classes down the hall so that you two aren’t right on top of one another.”

“Ooh, Dean-o,” Gabe chuckled. “But I’d love to be right on top of Sammykins.”

Suddenly, Dean was one hundred percent serious. “No,” he said firmly. “Don’t sleep with Sam.” When Gabriel made a face, Dean said, “I’m serious, Gabe. He gets way too fucking attached and if he sleeps with you, he’ll get all fucking confused about his feelings. Does he love you? Does he hate you? And then he’ll come whining about it to me, and I don’t do chick flick bullshit. So for the sake of my sanity, don’t fuck my brother.”

“No promises,” Gabe said, slightly miffed. “But I’ll do my best for you, buddy.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe Sam’s right—you _are_ annoying.”

“It’s one of my better features.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Shut up, Winchester.”

*~*~*~*~*~*


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things at the gym begin to escalate.

Week two was Gabriel’s turn to be frustrated until he was ready to snap. 

Come Monday morning, the locks on his assigned studio had been changed; though Sam gave him a pair of faux innocent puppy dog eyes that had Gabriel letting it slide. He learned though. Boy, did he learn. 

While the locks had been changed, there had also been some rearranging done on the interior. He hadn’t been stocked with enough mats, and there were only twenty pound weights available, not five. The worst slight, however, was that his stereo system had been disconnected. It could no longer find his phone through Bluetooth, and the only radio station Gabriel could find that wasn’t riddled with static was an easy listening one. And it only played the bad kind of eighties and nineties music. 

If he had to hear ‘ _ Every Rose Has It’s Thorn’ _ one more time he was going to throw a twenty pound weight through the floor to ceiling mirrors. 

Sam had told him the stereo was being moved for the purposes of Feng Shui, (like Gabe was too stupid to know when he was being punked), and would be up and running by next week. Dean had laughed and told Gabriel that he was going to have his work cut out for him if Sam was on the warpath. Gabriel fumed. 

Fine, Winchester. If he wanted to take this to the next level, then so be it. He would never be able to  _ imagine  _ what Gabriel was willing to do. Although, he  _ did  _ have a reputation as a trickster to maintain, and he knew that he would have to wait for the opportune moment. Sooner or later, Gabriel knew that something would appear that was too good to resist. 

Sure enough, by Thursday, Gabriel found the opening that he needed. And,  _ oh _ , was it going to be  _ beautiful _ .

Gabriel arrived at work, and everything was still a disaster. He persevered, and prepared for his first class of the day. Thursday mornings were the young mothers who dropped their kids at school, or daycare, and made their way over to Singer’s to work off the Wednesday night merlot and cheese plates.

He’d managed to deal with the music issue all week by bringing an extra water bottle with him to class. He would then place his phone inside and use the bottle as a makeshift amplifier. It wasn’t the best, but if the volume was cranked to the max, they could at least have some semblance of a class.

“Okay!” Gabriel shouted. He’d decided that he would make up for the lack of music by screaming out the instructions even louder in an attempt to foul Sam. However, he hadn’t had any complaints all week, so he doubted that it was effective. Not that it would stop him. 

“Let’s get going this morning! All right,” he clapped, bouncing around in his electric blue unitard. “We’re going to start with a warm up with three box-squares and then a step-ball-change. Slide and slide—follow me!”

The ladies, and two young men, one of whom couldn’t tear his eyes from Gabriel’s crotch, all jumped into position. The class began to follow Gabe’s instructions, both verbal and physical, and soon enough they were under way. 

When the class ended, Gabriel said goodbye to the students, and fended off some rather forward advances from the bottom who’d been eyeing him. The poor kid looked to be just out of high school. Which was somewhat unfortunate because Gabriel wasn’t into boys that had just gotten their learner’s permit. He was pretty flexible with ages for the most part, but he didn’t want to be known as the, (almost), middle-aged fitness instructor who preyed on twinks in his class. 

“I’ll see you next class, Kevin,” Gabe said with a wave before he began to wipe down the room and gather up all of the used towels. 

The gym provided complimentary hand towels for the patrons and when a class made you sweat as much as Gabriel teaching The Eden Slide did, there were towels galore. Thankfully, there was a washer and dryer in the staff room to take care of the excess of laundry. Anyone who stopped through the staff room was supposed to take a peek and switch out any loads in their free time. As a health and safety matter, all members of the staff were required to help keep the towels moving through the wash. 

Gabriel spent a few minutes tossing damp, used towels into the laundry basket in the corner of his room like they were free throws. Despite his rather compact stature, Gabe had always enjoyed basketball—and he was good at it, as well. 

“Three points,” Gabe shouted, pumping both fists in the air as the last towel hit its mark. 

Gathering up the basket, Gabe noticed that it was particularly heavy this morning. He hefted it into his arms and carried it easily down the hall to the staff room. Even as a social butterfly, Gabe had to admit that he was slightly relieved to find the room empty. He set the basket down and popped open the lid on the washer. When he looked inside, Gabriel let out a frustrated sigh. While the washer wasn’t running, there was most definitely a load of laundry inside. 

In order to reach in and gather the clean clothes, Gabriel had to almost tumble into the washer headfirst. His toes were just barely grazing the floor as he rummaged around inside. Handful over handful, Gabriel pulled out the wet clothes and shoved them into the dryer. As he transferred the load of laundry, he discovered that it wasn’t gym towels taking up the washer. It was someone’s personal clothing; and based on the length, it was Sam’s.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Gabe muttered to himself. “I’m not here to do someone’s laundry for them, Sasquatch. No matter how hot you are.”

No matter, he still started up both machines, grumbling the whole time about Sammy wasting his time with his dirty jockstraps. Now  _ that  _ was a visual that Gabe would like to see more of—though he doubted that it would ever be on the outside of his own fantasies. 

Sam Winchester in a jock strap...what a lovely thing to think about. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Things were looking up for Sam. The second week of Gabriel joining their team, he’d managed to fix the issue of the loud music. Sure, his excuse was ridiculous, but Gabriel had bought it, so Sam let it ride. 

He’d slept well each night, he had beaten his record time for his morning jog, and when he’d splurged and bought a pay-per-view foreign indie film, his credit card somehow hadn’t been charged. It seemed as though everything was going his way after the debacle of the previous week. Of course it couldn’t last. 

He woke up on Thursday morning and came back from his jog to find that his washer wasn’t working. The start button didn’t light up when pressed, and the drum remained stationary. Sam did what he could to try and figure out what might be wrong in the five minutes he had before hopping into the shower. Apparently it was something beyond his skills, because he couldn’t figure it out with his random tinkering. Fine. 

That was when he realized that he only had one pair of work clothes left, not to mention socks. His last pair were currently on his feet and stunk like he had just jogged in eighty degree heat—because he had. With a groan, Sam quickly washed the socks in the sink and tossed the dripping things into the dryer while he took a shower. They were still damp when he had to leave for work, but it was the best that he could do for now. 

He called for a repairman while making his morning smoothie and was told that the earliest someone could be out was Friday afternoon. With no other option, Sam grabbed an old duffel bag and filled it with as many pieces of athletic gear that he could. He’d just do a few loads at the gym until his washer was back on track. It beat only having smelly clothes for the next few days. 

Sam’s first stop at the gym that morning was to throw in some of his clothes. It was customary for them to change between classes, though most of them didn’t when they were doing personal training. The point of a one on one was to get the client sweating, not the instructor. Classes were different. And once Charlie had joined them taking over the barre classes, she’d suggested the policy so that she “Didn’t have to smell sweaty boy twenty-four, seven.” 

It was a good policy and after some moaning and groaning, the boys had all realized that Charlie was onto something. People liked working out at the gym, but they didn’t necessarily want to be bombarded with the  _ smell _ of the gym. 

Emptying the bag into the washer, Sam added soap, and tossed the bag in for good measure. It looked as though the morning would stay on a high note for Sam because the washer at the gym was working just fine. He pressed the start button and headed to his first class of the day, Sunrise Yoga with Sam.

Unfortunately, when the class—and the  _ day _ —was over, Sam ended up completely forgetting about his clothes.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A whole day spent jumping around and teaching people to dance was fucking exhausting. By the time that his last class ended, Gabriel was dragging ass and just wanted to go home. There was a drive through order with his name on it, and his Jack Russell terrier, Buttercream, waiting for him.

Lugging the last basket of towels from his room, down to the staff area, Gabe knocked the door open with his hip and dropped the basket with a grunt in front of the washer. 

He opened the lid and saw that it was full of freshly cleaned towels. Fine, no big deal. He’d switch them out and head on home. However when Gabriel opened the dryer, he almost screamed. 

It was full—of the same load of personal washing that he’d placed inside that morning. 

Slowly turning toward the storage door, Gabriel noticed that it was blocked with two other baskets  _ full _ of dirty, rank towels. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He said aloud. 

Not wanting to leave the work for someone else in the morning, Gabriel pulled all of the clean clothes from the dryer. There was a canvas bag in with the shorts and tanks, so he shoved them all inside and zipped it up. Then he set in to get the towels finished. 

After a call to his brother, Castiel, to swing by his place to let Buttercream out and give her some dinner, Gabriel settled in for a few loads of laundry. The only thing in the fridge were random Blender Bottles full of someone’s homemade protein nightmares. Gabriel opened one, and it smelled like dirt and sadness, so he gagged and put it back. He’d just have to hold out until he could get out of here. 

As he sat at one of the circular tables, his feet propped on a chair, Gabriel passed the time poking at his phone until he got bored. His stomach rumbled and with a few inventive curse words, Gabriel swung his legs onto the floor and stared at the bag of clothes. 

He unzipped the bag and poked through it. Unsure of what he was looking for, Gabriel wished that it had rained that day because it would serve Sam right for tying up the washer all day if his clothes ‘accidentally’ got covered in mud. 

Gabe’s phone buzzed with a text from his brother announcing that Buttercream had done her business and eaten all of her dinner. 

Gabriel looked at the text. Then he looked at the bag of Sam’s clothes. Back to the phone. Clothes. Buttercream. 

Oh. 

_ Oh _ .

A slow, villainous smirk spread across his lips and Gabriel gave a dark chuckle. He was either brilliant or going straight to Hell in a fast car. Probably both. 

When the towels were cleaned, Gabriel made sure that the lights were all turned off and the front doors of the gym were locked for the night. He also made sure to grab the duffel bag and toss it into the passenger seat of his neon yellow Dodge Charger.

Peeling out of the parking lot, Gabe made a quick stop for some slightly questionable tacos, (extra hot sauce), and headed home. He burst into his apartment, duffel bag in one hand, drink in the other and bag of tacos clamped between his teeth. Buttercream deigned to meet him at the door, dancing around on her hind legs and doing her best to trip him. 

“Hello my sweet girl,” Gabe said as soon as he’d dropped the tacos on the counter. He deposited the bag on the floor and reached down to pick up his best friend. “As soon as Daddy is done eating his dinner, then he needs his pretty lady to help him out? What do you say, Butt Cream?” He used the unflattering nickname with an affectionate tone, and Buttercream wiggled around happily in his arms trying to lick his face. 

Gabriel made quick work of his meager dinner and then went for the bag. As he dug around inside, he sent a quick text to Dean asking him what Sam’s cell number was. He explained that he needed to reschedule one of his classes tomorrow and wanted to ‘check with Sam so he didn’t bother him.’ Yeah right. 

Once Gabriel entered the number into his own phone, he got down to business. He decided to take the photos first so that he had an arsenal at his disposal. Gabe picked out one of the shirts and pairs of athletic shorts and carried them into the living room with the small white and brown dog on his heels. 

Setting to work, Gabriel carefully and rather gently, dressed Buttercream in Sam’s clothes. First the shirt and a few pictures, followed by the shorts and a couple more snapshots. Socks, more shirts, and even a jockstrap which he felt mentally guilty about drying and immediately stuffed back into the bag. 

Buttercream wore sweaters and booties in the winter, so she was used to playing dress up. She sat calmly or rolled on her back for belly rubs before staying still to be dressed. Gabriel posed her. He had her beg, roll over and ‘shake hands.’ All while she was wearing—and shedding on—Sam’s clean clothes. 

Once he was satisfied, Gabriel gave his good girl a few homemade doggie treats and flopped down on the sofa to reap the fruits of his labor. ‘ _ Here’s to you Sam Winchester _ ,’ Gabe thought as he pulled up a new text message to the tall yoga instructor. 

Scrolling through the pictures of Buttercream, Gabriel selected his first choice. He then settled in for a long night, intending to text a pic to Sam around every half hour. Ah, he loved karma. 

Gabriel pressed  _ ‘Send _ .’

*~*~*~*~*

“In my clothes, Dean!”

Sam and Gabriel stood in front of Dean’s desk as the elder Winchester tried not to laugh. There was about an eighty-three percent chance that Sam was going to punch one of them in the face. 

“It really wasn’t that bad,” Gabriel huffed, arms crossed. 

“My clothes are  _ covered  _ in dog hair,” Sam yelled.

“So throw ‘em in the wash,” Gabe said. 

“I did—someone dressed a dog up inside of them.”

“Well maybe  _ someone else  _ shouldn’t have left them in the machines all day!”

“Maybe you should respect other people’s things.”

“Oh!” Gabe chuckled darkly. “You’re one to talk, Mr Feng Shui.”

“Mister what?” Dean finally got involved. 

“Sammylicious here, disconnected my entire stereo system and blamed it on ‘making my room flow’ and actually thought I’d buy it.” Gabriel pulled out his phone and waved it at Dean. “Do you know how my classes have listened to music this week? Huh?” He turned to glare at Sam. “On my phone! In my water bottle!”

“What?” Dean said again.

“Acoustics?” Sam broke in, sounding impressed.

“Yes, I know. I’m a genius,” Gabe rolled his eyes. 

“Hey!” Dean yelled. “Okay. You two are grownups and you need to figure out how to put on your Big Boy Panties and get along. Get it together,” Dean said. “Don’t make me bring Bobby into this.”

“Big Boy Panties?” Gabriel had a brow raised and Sam was biting his lip at his brother’s unfortunate choice of words. 

“Shaddup,” Dean snapped. “Get out of here. Go to work. Stop hating each other.”

“How?” Sam grunted. 

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Just find a way to get along.”

They turned together and left when Dean shooed them out of his office. Outside in the hall, Sam hovered, looking down at Gabriel who had an odd look on his face. “What?”

Gabe wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “‘Find a way to get along,’” he quoted. “I have some ideas for that.”

“In your dreams.”

“Yes,” Gabe grinned. “They are.”

“Not gonna happen,” Sam fixed Gabriel with a serious look. 

Yeah, he was viscerally attracted to Gabriel. He would love nothing more than to be bent over the nearest surface and taken a little painfully by the man. The thought of Gabriel fucking him had Sam at a half mast erection, and it was definitely visible in his baggy workout shorts. To make matters worse. Gabriel noticed too. 

“You sure about that, kiddo?”

“Absolutely,” Sam said through gritted teeth. He would stay strong. Gabriel was an asshole, and Sam would do well to remember that. 

“Oh, kiddo,” Gabriel chuckled. “You just made this a whole helluva lot more fun.” He winked over his shoulder as he walked away. 

Sam watched him go with growing horror rising in his chest before he forcibly squashed it down. Fine. If Gabriel wanted to play, then Sam could hang with the big boys too. 

Bring it on, Novak. 

Bring it on.

*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dog hair in clean clothes...Gabe, you dick. 😂🤣


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prank War is officially ON!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a prank involving food in this chapter. If you have food aversions, you might want to skip to the last (3rd) scene. It’s not too terrible, but I have severe food aversions and sort of grossed myself out writing it. 😂🤣
> 
> There will be a non detailed summary of the prank in the end notes.
> 
> Remember to stay safe out there, kiddos! And if you haven’t drank any water yet today, please do so now. Thanks!

The next few weeks were filled with a full on prank war. Both Sam and Gabriel were hell bent on making one another’s lives miserable. For the most part, Dean seemed to find the two of them endlessly hilarious. He didn’t encourage, but he didn’t deter. It was a source of amusement and frustration depending on which side of the current prank they were on. 

First off, Sam absolutely wanted revenge for ruining his washing, and he wasted no time. It was easy. Almost too juvenile and simplistic—but absolutely effective. 

He made sure that he was just a little bit late to work that morning. That way, Gabriel’s ridiculous class would have already started. Sam used the opportunity to head to the staff room and open the refrigerator. Over the course of the last few weeks, Sam had noticed that Gabriel seemed to have a schedule when it came to his meals. A schedule that he rarely deviated from. He might change the toppings, but Mondays were usually burgers with Dean. 

And Tuesdays were for tacos. 

Just as he’d hoped, Gabriel’s takeout container of tacos was in the front left corner of the fridge—right at the top. What could only be described as a ‘dastardly grin’ spread across Sam’s face as he plucked the bag out of the fridge and carried it to the counter. 

Sam allowed a glance around the room to double check that no one was watching before he reached into the pocket of his warm-up jacket and pulled out a jar of ground cinnamon. 

Opening the bag, Sam unwrapped the first fast food taco and paused. He stared down at the shell full of meat, cheese and assorted toppings and really thought about what he was about to do. Who would this help? Certainly not his working relationship with Gabriel. 

After a moment, Sam gave a harsh laugh and decided that he just didn’t care. Gabe had ruined his classes with his awful music, and his ridiculous Eden Slide class. Not to mention what he’d done to Sam’s laundry. Just because the dog might be the cutest thing Sam had ever seen didn’t make up for all of the fur caked on his clothes. He’d had to use a lint roller before he rewashed them—at home. 

Before he could second guess himself again, Sam set his jaw and used one of the forks that they kept in the break room to remove the toppings. He didn’t want it to be super obvious right away. The ground beef lay inside of the shell, just  _ begging  _ for some additional flavor, and Sam was happy to oblige. 

Shaking the cinnamon onto the first taco made Sam almost want to cackle like a fucking Disney villain. 

Once the taco was full of cinnamon, he reassembled it and wrapped it back up as best as he could. He then repeated his actions with the other four, liberally coating them so they damn things would taste like Christmas threw up on them, and put them back where he’d found them. 

Sam arrived at his first class of the day feeling  _ good _ .

*~*~*~*~*~*

Tuesdays were one of Gabriel’s favorite days of the week. He always had tacos on Tuesday. Sometimes for lunch  _ and  _ dinner, depending on his mood. Gabriel  _ loved  _ tacos. Then again, who  _ didn’t? _ They were one of the most delicious culinary creations of all time. 

Meat, cheese, lettuce and sour cream; and all of those perfectly blended spices! Gabriel loved them; soft or hard, freshly warmed or fried—it didn’t matter. Tacos were some of his favorite things. Which was why it was good that he worked out for a living because he ate way more than the suggested serving. 

He’d taught two classes, and given one personal training session that morning, which consisted of Kevin wanting an hour alone to ‘go over the choreography.’ Thankfully, he’d managed to fend the teen off enough to actually get some work done. Kevin was even managing a decent looking hitch kick by the end. All of the exercise had gotten Gabriel’s appetite revved. He was  _ starving  _ by the time he wandered into the staff room around twelve-thirty. 

Unsurprisingly, Sam was seated at one of the circular tables with his brother. Gabriel liked to spend his lunches with Dean, but he couldn’t expect to hang with one brother and avoid the other. Before he could second guess himself, he grabbed his lunch bag full of delicious takeaway tacos and plopped down in the seat next to Dean. It didn’t escape Gabriel’s notice that Sam tracked his movement with his eyes. For someone who acted so hostile, Sam Winchester certain watched Gabriel a lot. 

“Hey, Dean-o. Sam,” Gabe said as he opened his bag. He was so hungry that he didn’t feel like reheating the damn things. He’d ordered extra on Sunday afternoon and saved these five for his Tuesday lunch. 

“Hi Gabe,” Dean said, biting into a (warm) steak burrito of his own. 

Sam didn’t say hello, but he did ask what day it was. “Tuesday,” Gabe chirped, trying to be nice. He had been feeling a little bad about the whole, dressing Buttercream up in Sam’s clothes incident, and he wanted to try and make amends. 

They had to work together, and Gabe wasn’t about to have a hostile work environment. He’d dealt with that enough growing up. Plus, the kid was sexy as fuck and he sort of wanted to see if there could be something there. 

“Tuesday,” Sam nodded at Gabriel’s answer. “Right. Tacos.”

“Taco Tuesday,” Dean said through his food, making Sam frown. 

“The best day of the week,” Gabriel said, picking up his first taco. Oh damn, it looked delicious. Opening his mouth, Gabriel took a large bite. And immediately gagged. 

_ What. The. Fuck.  _

“What’s up?” Dean was staring at him. 

“These taste funny,” Gabe said, eyeing his taco. 

“Mine tastes fine,” Dean took another large bite. 

Gabriel held the taco up to his nose and took a deep sniff. Something aromatic and strong was wafting out at him. The lingering taste in his mouth was overwhelmingly bitter, but he couldn’t place it. Deciding to try again when his stomach rumbled loudly, Gabriel fortified himself and took another bite. Nope. He spit that one out too. But now he had the taste. 

Mixed in with his taco meat was the overwhelming taste of  _ cinnamon _ .

Why? Suddenly it hit him—what if  _ all  _ of his tacos were cinnamony? In a slight panic, Gabriel began to tear open the paper wrappers on each taco and take a large bite out of them, one by one. Every single time, he’d make a frustrated noise and spit the food back out. 

Dean had stopped eating and was staring at him with his mouth, half full of his own burrito, open in shock. “What the hell, man?”

“My tacos,” Gabriel muttered, biting into another. “My fucking  _ tacos _ !” He set the last one untouched down on the table and wracked his brain.

What kind of a monster would do such a—wait a minute. Gabe looked up across the table and saw Sam ducking his head and trying to snicker into his hand. 

“Oh  _ very  _ funny, kiddo,” he glared at his now arch nemesis. No way were they ever going to bone if the man was willing to fuck with Taco Tuesday. What a  _ dickbag _ !

By then, Sam was outright laughing. “Serves you right. Next time, don’t mess with my stuff,” he said, standing up and leaving the room. “

“What did he do?” Dean finally swallowed and stared at Gabriel in confusion. 

“All of my fucking tacos have a crap ton of... _ cinnamon  _ in them! He put cinnamon in my damn tacos!” Gabriel wailed dramatically. “What the hell am I going to eat now? I’m dying!”

“Calm down, Meryl Streep,” Dean laughed and pulled another burrito out of his lunch bag, tossing it to Gabriel. 

Gabe smiled and thanked his friend as he unwrapped the untampered-with lunch. Fucking Sam Winchester! Gabriel was actually surprised that the kid retaliated. It made something inside of him roar to life. Gabriel set down the burrito and looked at his own food once more. He had to know. With determination, Gabe sniffed the last taco and wondered if there was any point in trying it. He doubted that Sam would have left him one unaltered. 

Bracing himself, Gabe bit into the taco and immediately spit it out, his nose crinkled as he gagged once again. Gabe didn’t think he could face tacos for dinner after this disaster, but he was definitely going to need a margarita after work. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

The couple who had just signed up for a membership followed Sam back to his office, eyeing the decor and cleanliness of the building. Sam walked them through more of what Bobby’s original vision had been, and what he and his brother had done when they’d taken over. 

The woman, Jess, seemed particularly impressed by the credentials that Sam had rattled off. With the exception of the craze classes, he and Dean kept up with the changes in techniques and the revolutionary aspects of the fitness world. Not to mention that Sam was a certified nutritionist. Jess seemed particularly interested in that. Her husband Brady was more about when the pool and weight room were open, due to an old sports injury preventing him from running on a treadmill for cardio. 

“Oh,” Sam said, when Brady mentioned it. “Dean and I both have experience with physical therapy and sports medicine. I’ve only taken a few basic classes, but Dean is almost ready to graduate as a therapist.” 

It wasn’t technically a lie. Dean had dropped out a few credits shy when Bobby had been in an accident a few years back. The old man had been stuck in a wheelchair for a few months, and Dean worked with him every day. The hired therapists even noticed how talented Dean was at getting the most out of Bobby without pushing too far. It was a fine line in that profession—and Dean had the talent. 

Once Bobby was walking on his own again, he’d wanted to step back from the gym, which opened up the opportunity for Sam and Dean to take on more of the load. It put the breaks on Dean’s schooling. Eventually the older Winchester wanted to go back to school, but who knew when the opportunity would arise again. 

“As I said,” Sam led them into his office, “I think that Singer Fitness will be really great for the two of you and your health needs.” 

Sam loved signing up new members, helping them start their journey to a better body and healthier vital signs. Today was no exception. He waved his hand toward the two seats for clients and moved toward his desk. Jessica hovered near the wall examining his framed credentials for a moment before her eyes went wide and she elbowed her husband in the ribs. Narrowing his eyes, Sam watched as Brady read the two closest to him—the ones for Sam’s annual certification as a personal trainer, as well as the one indicating that he was also a certified yoga instructor. 

Suddenly Brady snorted and said, “Well! That’s good to know.”

“Brady,” Jessica hissed. 

“Is something wrong?” Sam asked. Now he was concerned and suspicious. He moved around the desk and walked over to the wall. 

What he saw made his stomach flip and his blood boil. 

Someone— _ Gabriel _ , obviously—had replaced his certificates and diplomas with fakes. The one for his personal training said it was for ‘Eating His Tofu Like a Big Boy.’ The framed yoga certificate said that Sam was awarded a diploma for ‘The Best Downward Dog in the History of Bottoms-R-Us!’

Sam wanted to scream and curse Gabriel, but instead, he set his jaw and did his best to remain as professional as possible. It wasn’t easy. Oh, that Vertically Inhibited Tadpole would  _ pay _ . If Sam lost these two clients over this he might have to actually murder Gabriel. Or at least tie him up in the town square naked and covered in Saran Wrap. Though, that image was actually kind of hot—and now Sam was beginning to feel himself go hard. 

He turned abruptly and sat down behind his desk. “My deepest apologies,” he said soberly. “One of my coworkers has a childish sense of humor, and obviously thought that this joke was amusing, instead of in poor taste.”

“It’s actually pretty funny,” Brady chuckled as he sat down. 

Jessica glared at him and turned to Sam. “It’s perfectly fine,” she said. “My own brothers have been known to have a prank war or two in the past.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Sam said. 

In an attempt to salvage their meeting, Sam went over a few more of the gym’s amenities and even gave the two a discounted price due to Gabriel’s shitty retaliation for his tacos. What an ass!

Once Jessica and Brady had signed on the dotted line, Sam walked them back to the front to get their membership badges made up. When the couple happily headed to the locker rooms to have their first workout at Singer Fitness, Sam stomped back to his office, slamming the door behind him. 

He was glaring at the framed faux diplomas when there was a knock and Dean entered without waiting. “What the hell?” Dean said. “Tantrum much? I could hear you all the way in the weight room.”

“Look,” Sam pointed sharply at the replacement documents. “Look at what your new bestie did to me!”

Dean leaned in and studied the pictures for a moment before bursting into laughter, bent over at the waist and  _ actually  _ slapping his thigh. Asshole. “Oh damn,” he said when he finally got himself under control. “That’s cold, man. Fucking funny, but cold.”

“I could have lost clients because of it,” Sam said. “They  _ saw _ them!”

“But you didn’t lose them?” Dean was suddenly serious. 

“No,” Sam said petulantly. “They...they thought it was funny.”

“Well, no harm done then.”

“Only to my ego and reputation as a professional.”

“If they thought it was funny, I doubt they think anything less of you. They still signed up, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then, Samantha,” Dean patted him on the back. “If you don’t want to play with the big boys anymore then stop poking at him. Gabriel’s a good guy. If you stop, he’ll stop. Besides,” Dean grinned wickedly, “I think he’d rather stop pulling your pigtails, if you get my drift.”

“What?” Sam wrinkled his nose. Suddenly the comment hit him and he hated the visceral reaction. He was disgusted, yet his stomach was flipping with excitement.  _ ‘Gabriel liked him?’ _ He immediately squashed the happiness and focused on the anger. “Gross, Dean. Anyway, he’s not my type.”

“Wow, Sammy,” Dean rolled his eyes. “I know I taught you how to lie better than that. It’s cute. Go on floating down that river in Egypt.”

“Shut up, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

When Dean left, Sam took the pictures off of the wall. He found two more that had been replaced with ‘Masters Degree in Oral,’ and ‘Certificate of an Authentic Big Dick.’ Sam sat at his desk and took the backs off of the frames. Thankfully, the real certificates were just covered by the fake ones and he had everything in order soon enough. 

So, Dean thought that Gabriel  _ liked  _ him. Interesting. Maybe Sam would use that to his advantage. Catch the infuriating—and sexy—douchebag off guard. Dean was right, Sam was a liar. Gabriel Novak was  _ exactly  _ his type. Too bad that they were now mortal enemies. He wouldn’t piss on Gabriel if the man was on fire. 

Well. Maybe he would. And then Gabe could see that Sam really  _ did  _ have a big dick. Then he might regret teasing him, since he’d never get a chance to test it out. 

Sam chuckled darkly. He needed to get his brain on board to figure out what his next step was going to be. There was no doubt in his mind that Dean had been truthful saying that Gabe would stop if Sam did. However, he couldn’t deny that the pulling of pigtails didn’t intrigue him. 

It was kind of hot to have an attractive enemy that he could wage war upon. Something about it turned Sam on, and he knew that he wasn’t going to stop and give in any time soon.

*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **In the first short scene, Sam tampers with Gabe’s lunch adding a spice that doesn’t go with his dish. In the second scene, Gabriel eats it and reacts. No one gets ill. It’s just icky to think about.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Destiel...

Dean spent the rest of the week panicking about the budget for the gym, wondering how he was going to figure out where they were bleeding money. He wasn’t built to deal with crunching numbers and allocating vacation days. That was more Sam’s thing. 

Give Dean a layout of the human body though, and he could tell you where each muscle innervation was located, or what nerves could be affected by watching a client walk down the hall. He was more of a hands on person when it came to displaying his genius. Besides, numbers were stale and dull compared to knowing how involuntary muscle contractions kept humans alive by the beating of their heart or the movement of the stomach. 

Anatomy fascinated Dean, and he’d studied it since he was a kid. Bobby had mentioned med school a few times as Dean grew up; but while his science and English classes were strong, he just didn’t try in his calculus courses in high school. Plus, Bobby had already sacrificed so much to raise them, and Dean wasn’t about to ask for a handout when he knew he’d be lacking on scholarships. 

Besides, Dean liked having some semblance of a life—and doctors just didn’t have one. He knew that first hand. His ex, Benny, had been a surgical resident when they’d dated, and Dean was lucky to see his boyfriend twice a month. Might as well have been long distance. He and Benny were still friends, but now Benny was married to a girl from his residency program named Andrea. She specialized in plastics and made bank. Benny was a cardiothoracic surgeon and between them, they had more money than they could spend. Not that it mattered, because they never had time to use it for anything. 

The last time he and Benny had met for drinks, his ex had bemoaned that he’d wanted to take Andrea on a Mediterranean cruise, but one of his patients had gotten the call from UNOS and Benny insisted on doing the transplant. They’d missed their flight, _ and  _ the ship out of port. Andrea has been understanding, but Benny said he felt like an ass. 

Dean was happy where he was. He loved working at the gym. Sure, he’d love to go back and finish his therapy degree so that he could incorporate that into their work, but there just wasn’t time right now. Not when he had to do all this boring paperwork crap for Singer’s. He wished he could hire someone that could run the office and do the schedules, as well as keep the books, but he couldn’t trust just  _ anyone  _ with Bobby’s baby. 

There was a knock at the door and Gabriel poked his head in, holding up milkshakes and a bag that smelled like fried cheese curds and onion rings. “Hey boss man,” Gabe said. “Got a minute for a snack?”

“Always,” Dean smiled.

Gabe sat down and handed Dean a vanilla shake and the bag. Sure enough, Dean had guessed the contents correctly. He bit into an onion ring and moaned. 

“You need some alone time?” Gabriel teased, popping a few of the warm cheese curds into his mouth. 

“I just really needed this,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out how to deal with the budget, and Charlie needs a week off to go visit her mother in the hospital. I’ve got no clue how to shuffle this around.” He sighed, “I could ask Jo to fill in for the barre classes while she’s in town this month, but she hates them and I’d have to owe her one. Plus, Jo’s favors are always horrific. Last time, I had to take her weekend shifts at the bar, and there were three bachelorette parties and I don’t know  _ how  _ many twenty-first birthdays. People slapped my ass all night and I didn’t even get to keep the tips. Which is why it’s been three years since I’ve asked her for anything.”

Gabriel snorted. “That sounds fun, minus the no tips thing. Anyway, if you’re that desperate, I’ll do it,” Gabe volunteered, grabbing one of Dean’s onion rings. 

“Really? You’re not fucking with me? Do you even know how to do ballet?”

“Please,” Gabriel scoffed. “I’ve been taking dance since I was about four. Tap, jazz, modern, ballet—I do it all. I just hated the instructors. I’m more built for free movement which is why I liked what I saw with Eden.”

“You dance ballet?”

“Shaddup.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Dean snickered.

“You were thinking it.”

“Maybe.” Dean slumped in his seat and sucked some milkshake through the large straw. “You’ll seriously cover Charlie’s classes for the week? I can absolutely up you to time and a half for her spots.”

Gabe smiled. “Sounds better than good—I could use the cash. My little brother still hasn’t found work and is being a moody mooch.”

“Your brother came with you?” Dean asked, his tone serious. He’d heard some of what Gabriel had been through in the last few years, but he knew that it wasn’t the full story. Not by a long shot. 

“Yup. Castiel. The baby of the family.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s an accountant,” Gabe said with a shrug. “But right now he’s applying basically everywhere. He hasn’t looked at minimum wage jobs yet, but he said last night that he would apply to some today. I just wish he didn’t have to do that. We didn’t exactly grow up on a budget—not that Cassie doesn’t know how to do one. The only reason we were able to stay afloat for so long before you hired me was that he kept our money locked down. Nothing more than necessities. And Dean-o,” Gabe sighed dramatically. “You don’t know how much I suffered without my daily dose of candy. Imported chocolate isn’t cheap, my friend.”

“Hold up,” Dean said. “Your little brother, who needs a job, is an accountant? And you never mentioned that? I’ve been bitching about our budget for weeks during lunch.”

“Well, yeah,” Gabe looked sheepish. “I just didn’t want to toss him at you like, ‘Hey Dean Please Save Me and My Family,’ you know?”

“Okay, yeah, I get it,” Dean said. And he did. Gabe might have thought it was pushy and that Dean would feel obligated, though that wasn’t the case at all. “Look. I need someone who can balance the books, make the schedule and generally run the office side of this business. I hate it, and Sammy doesn’t have the time. But I need it to be someone who is like family.”

Gabriel nodded sadly. “I get it, Dean. You don’t have to explain.”

“No man, you  _ don’t  _ get it,” Dean grinned. “In the last month and a half you  _ have  _ become family. To me and Bobby. Sammy doesn’t like you, though he’d probably be down for some hate fucking.”

“Excellent.”

“The thing is,” Dean continued, ignoring him. “You’re family now. And I wouldn’t be opposed to making your brother family too.”

“Woah,” Gabe sat up straight in his chair. “Are you serious? I don’t want you to just hire him. Like, you should interview him or some shit.”

“Totally,” Dean agreed. “We’re having a barbecue at Bobby’s place on Saturday. Just us, Charlie and Rowena, Ellen. Jo might be bringing some guy she’s been seeing, Victor—never met him. Ash, and maybe Garth and Bess. You should come too and bring…”

“Castiel.”

“Yeah, bring Cas,” Dean shortened the name which made Gabe laugh. “I’ll feel him out on casual footing and if we all get along, I’ll make an offer.”

“Damn Dean-o,” Gabe said. “I can’t thank you enough. We’ll be there. You’re going to love him, I promise!”

“I’m sure I will.” Dean had no idea how true those words would be.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Gabriel arrived at Bobby Singer’s place with Castiel in tow right on time. He brought a large bottle of decent whisky for their host, and Cas brought a cactus. He said that it would be good for Bobby, if he didn’t have much time for a plant, but that he wouldn’t show up empty handed and that bringing booze all the time was ‘uncouth.’ Whatever, Cassie.

“I want to make a good impression,” Cas said as they got out of Gabriel’s bright yellow Humvee--a holdover from their old life--that he called ‘The Pineapple.’ “Not that anyone would make a good impression in this monstrosity.”

A laugh came from the porch and they both looked up to see Dean watching them. “I can already tell that I’m going to like you, Cas,” Dean said. “I give Gabe shit for that piece of crap all the time.”

“My car is awesome!”

“It isn’t fuel efficient,” Castiel said.

“Not to mention, that it looks like you’re compensating,” Dean said.

“He’s not,” Cas said glumly. “My brother is rather well-endowed for his stature.”

“Jesus, Cas,” Gabe laughed. “Could you save the cock praise for when my Sammoose is near to hear it?”

“I thought that Samuel didn’t like you?”

“It’s complicated,” Dean smiled as the brother’s walked up onto the porch. “I think they like tormenting one another, and eventually they’ll bone and be cool.”

“In my dreams,” Gabe said wistfully. “Anyway, Cas, this is Dean. Dean, this is my baby bro, Cassie.”

“Castiel,” he said. “Though I don’t mind Cas. Just please, not Cassie. The only reason that I don’t murder Gabriel for it is because he’s family.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll get away with it too,” Dean winked.

“I would be amenable to that, Dean.”

“Have fun, you two,” Gabe smirked and walked into the house with his giant bottle of booze in search of Bobby Singer--and maybe a tall, brown haired yoga teacher.

Bobby was out back talking to Ellen, Jo, and a handsome man who was holding Jo’s hand. Gabe sidled up to them and handed the whiskey over to Bobby, saying, “Hey there Boss! Got you a gift to warm you up for when you meet my brother. He’s weird, though Dean seems to be getting along with him somehow.”

They all turned to see Dean and Cas walking out of the house chatting happily away, their eyes trained onto one another like a damn Tractor Beam from the Death Star. Dean was now carrying Cas’ small succulent. So much for bringing a gift for Bobby.

“Gabe,” Bobby said gruffly. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too old man,” Gabe joked. He turned to Ellen and took her hand, brushing his lips over her knuckles. “My lady, a pleasure as always.” Ellen smacked him on the top of his head with a laugh. “Jo,” he said. “How are you doing? Catching lots of bad guys for the Feds?”

“I’m great,” she grinned. “And yes, I’ve helped put away a few people. This is Victor,” she introduced the man at her side. “We’ve been dating for almost a month.”

“Hello,” Victor said, and left it at that. 

“Nice,” Gabe said casually. As he opened the bottle of water Ellen handed him. “How’d you meet?”

“He’s my boss,” Jo said, causing Gabe to spew his drink. 

They both laughed at Gabriel’s reaction, and Victor said, “Now, Joanna, don’t give them ideas.” He turned to Gabriel again and said, “I was one of her instructors at the Academy,” he said. “She showed promise, even out-shot me on the range—and her defensive driving was a thing of beauty. As soon as she graduated I gave her my number.”

“It still took him a year to ask me out,” Jo said. 

“You wound me,” Victor deadpanned.

“You called me Joanna,” she countered. “See if you get any kind of se—“

“Joanna Beth!” Ellen shouted, cutting her daughter off, making all of them, even Bobby, chuckle. “I raised you better, girl,” Ellen shook her head. 

“I must take after dad,” Jo said. 

“You know you do,” Ellen laughed. She turned to Victor, “I hope you’re prepared for her bullshit, young man.”

“Absolutely,” he countered, which made Ellen nod happily. 

Gabe looked out over the area and saw most of the people he’d been expecting. Charlie and Rowena were sitting, squashed into the backseat of a rusted out Pontiac Trans Am out in the yard. Both of their heads were together and the women had flirtatious smiles on their lips. Gabriel liked watching those two. 

Dean had said that Charlie met Rowena when she was still in school. Both ballerinas had fallen hard, and then they’d aged out of their careers. Rowena owned and taught at the ballet school in town, while Charlie took the dance classes at Singers. They were both still doing what they loved, as well as passing on the passion to others. Gabriel liked knowing that the bond between the two redheads was so strong that Rowena had left her life in the city behind to move out in the middle of nowhere with the woman she loved. In a weird way, Gabe sort of held Charlie and Rowena up as the example of what he one day hoped for. Someone who would love him for who he was as well as the differences between them. 

Garth and his wife Bess were there, both of them holed up in the kitchen seasoning the meat for Bobby to grill later. Ellen’s nephew, Ash was with them as well, sitting at the rickety kitchen table and rolling his handmade cigarettes, while checking his laptop. Dean and Cas were down near the hand dug, stone fire pit. It looked as though Dean was teaching Cas how to properly build a fire. It was something that Gabe knew full well was not exciting to his brother, yet Cas looked completely enthralled by Dean.  _ Interesting _ . 

The one person that he  _ didn’t  _ see, was the same man that he wanted to have eyes on. He knew that Sam was probably still mad about the diploma thing, so Gabe wanted to make sure he knew where the guy was at all times. He didn’t want to be taken off guard. However, Sam didn’t seem to be there. 

Casually, Gabe leaned toward Bobby and asked, “Samshine didn’t come today?”

“He’s down at the Gas’n’Sip getting some more ice, and chips,” Bobby said. “Apparently one bag of Ruffles is a travesty according to some hippie stoners who I won’t name.” They all turned and looked through the screen door at Ash in the kitchen, who waved at them. “Anyway, Sam volunteered to make the run.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Gabe said. 

“I thought Dean said that you two didn’t get along,” Jo wondered. 

“We totally get along,” Gabe insisted. “We’re just playing.”

“And I’m Santa Claus,” Bobby chuckled. 

“You’ve got the beard for it,” Gabe grumbled, earning him a smack upside the head from his boss. 

“So you play practical jokes on each other?” Jo asked. 

“I mean,” Gabe stammered. “It’s not...you know. It’s just... _ he started it! _ ”

“Pulling pigtails,” Victor and Ellen said together. 

“Shut up,” Gabe said petulantly. “I’m going to go over there,” he pointed to the unraveling hammock on the other end of the porch. “And enjoy the fantastic weather, somewhere that you aren’t accusing me of something that isn’t true.”

“So you don’t think Sam is fine?” Jo called after him.

_ ‘No! Maybe. Okay, yes!’ _

Gabe flopped into the hammock and felt it adjust under his weight, the rope tying it to the corners of the porch creaking slightly as he swayed in his new spot. From here, he could spy on everyone and also keep an eye on Cassie. It was supposed to

be an informal job interview, but it looked more like a first date from where Gabe was watching. Did Dean just brush his fingers along Cas’ lower back?  _ He did _ —that little minx!

Losing himself in the swaying motion of the hammock, Gabriel turned his head and watched his brother and friend through half closed eyes. The rocking was soothing, and there was an excellent chance that he would drift off to dreamland. 

A long shadow fell over him, and Gabriel turned his head and blinked up at whoever was looming above his position. Surprisingly enough, it was Sam. He was standing next to the hammock, looking down at Gabriel with an unreadable expression. In his hand was a full glass, containing some sort of beverage. It even had a toothpick full of bottled cherries and a tiny umbrella poking out of it. Not something that Gabe would have guessed Sam might enjoy. 

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi.”

“What’s up?”

Sam shrugged. “Bobby said you didn’t have a cocktail yet, so I made you this.” Sam handed the drink to Gabriel, who took it gingerly. “Bobby doesn’t usually keep much besides beer and whiskey in the house. But I managed to cobble this together. It’s called a Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet. There’s fruit.”

Sure enough, Gabriel could see what looked like mashed oranges floating around inside the amber liquid, along with his cherries. “What’s the catch, kiddo?”

“No catch,” Sam said. “Consider it a peace offering, I guess.”

Gabriel eyed the drink suspiciously and took a sniff. He could smell the brandy, but also a decent whiff of sugar was mixed in. Maybe he and Sam were turning over a new leaf. The kid must have had enough. 

Hesitating only a moment, Gabe took a fortifying sip. Nothing happened. Except that a Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet was freaking delicious! He took another large gulp and smacked his lips together, laying back into the hammock and resting the glass on his stomach. “Damn good—you ever want a job as my personal bartender, then you’re hired.”

“I’ll let you know if I ever change careers,” Sam said dryly. 

They stared at one another for a charged moment, and Gabriel unconsciously licked his lips. He debated making a more flirtatious comment to see where it got him, but Dean’s voice rang in his ears about not sleeping with Sam. Not that Gabe was going to listen to that advice—but it might do well not to flaunt it in front of Dean-o. 

He was about to take the plunge when Sam blinked and shifted. “I should go help Bobby with the grill,” he said, turning away. Gabe slumped into the hammock. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Sam said, turning back, a single finger in the air. 

“Yes?” Gabe  _ hated  _ how breathy he sounded. 

Without a word, Sam placed his finger under the anchoring knot of the hammock by Gabe’s feet, and flipped it. 

Gabriel’s body spun—a full three-sixty-five too. The glass in his hand sloshed over him, covering him with muddled and sticky fruit, soaking his shirt to his skin, and probably staining it as well. His right arm was trapped against his chest, gripping the now empty glass, while his left poked out of one of the holes in the netting, flailing about wildly. 

He hovered in mid air for a moment, completely trapped, and definitely  _ not  _ squealing. It wasn’t forever though, since his body weight countered the original spin and he suddenly was whirling around again as the hammock righted itself, dumping him onto the porch in the process.

He lay on the wooden planks of the porch, staring up at the eves, blinking dumbly for a few moments. Unsteadily, Gabe got to his feet and glared up at Sam who was howling in laughter at his predicament. He was completely soaked and already had a few bees buzzing around him—and he had mashed cherries in his hair. 

“What the hell, Winchester!”

“You’re a little sugary ball of rage,” Sam choked out, attempting to control his mirth. 

“I’m  _ sticky _ !”

Gabe felt his hands clench at his sides. He was practically vibrating with rage. He had nothing to change into, and he couldn’t leave, since he wanted Cas to get the job working with them. “Oh, you are going  _ down _ , you giant douche!”

“Bring it, pipsqueak.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Ellen stepped between them, and glared at them both. She took Gabriel by the shoulder and led him into the house. 

Thankfully, Ellen pushed him into the bathroom upstairs and instructed him to strip and wash off. She took his wet clothes downstairs and threw them into the laundry while he was scrubbing the stickiness off of his skin. When Gabriel climbed out of the shower and began to towel off, he had to admit that it wasn’t that bad. Though, he’d definitely have to retaliate. Chuckling to himself, Gabriel thought that he must have looked so fucking ridiculous all tangled up. 

As he shook his head, allowing a bit of laughter at his own expense, there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said after securing the towel around his waist. 

Unsurprisingly, Sam poked his head around the door. “Hey,” he stepped into the steamed up bathroom with a pile of clothes in his hands. “These are Bobby’s,” he said. “Ellen said you can wear them while she’s cleaning yours.”

“Thanks,” Gabe said gruffly. 

“I’m really sorry,” Sam blurted. “I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt. I was just pissed about the diplomas.”

“Hey,” Gabe interrupted. “Kiddo. Chill out. If I couldn’t take a prank, then I wouldn’t be playing along. Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“I’m still going to get you back for it, make no mistake.”

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

Suddenly the bathroom seemed much too small. Sam was taking up a lot of space and he was so  _ close _ . Not to mention that Gabriel was pretty much naked. He noticed Sam’s eyes tracking over his body, lingering for a moment on the slight roundness to his stomach and the line of the towel, riding on his narrow hips. It was fucking sexy to watch Sam examine him. The young man was watching Gabriel like he was a big slice of delicious, moist, chocolate cake with fudge icing. 

Like he wanted to  _ taste _ .

Gabriel took one unconscious step forward and the moment was broken as Sam practically fled from the room, leaving Gabe alone to dress. 

Well,  _ that  _ was interesting.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Castiel didn’t have the heart to make fun of the way that his brother looked in Bobby Singer’s clothes. The older man was taller and had probably fifty pounds of muscle on Gabriel, who was  _ swimming _ in the borrowed jeans and flannel. Dean had pointed out that only the tips of Gabe’s fingers poked out of the sleeves, which made Cas have to turn away so as not to laugh in his brother’s face. He looked ridiculous. Thankfully, Gabe was a good sport and kept smiling and laughing for the rest of the barbecue. He also was forcing Sam to keep making him the same drink—a Brandy Something Sweet—Cas didn’t know. 

By the time the sun had set, Gabe was back in his own clothes and the fire pit was blazing away. Castiel felt accomplished that he’d helped Dean build it up. He’d never started a fire before, and it was fascinating to watch Dean explain the proper way to stack the logs and what to use for kindling. Cas had always assumed that people just dumped a crap ton of gasoline onto the logs, but Dean set him straight 

_ Dean. _

The more time that he spent with the older Winchester, the more intrigued that Castiel was. The man was bright, engaging, and didn’t seem at all put off by Cas’ awkward nature. He hadn’t felt this comfortable with anyone besides Gabriel. It made him slightly nervous. Why did Dean Winchester affect him so much?

The whole group of them were sitting around the fire, perched on camp chairs or felled logs that had been set around the ring as seats. Gabriel was positioned across the fire from them, seated with Charlie and Rowena. The three of them chatting away quietly with their heads bent together. Sam sat on Dean’s other side and Cas didn’t miss the longing looks that he shot across the flames at Gabe. What was going on between them? Something more than a simple prank war, that was certain. 

A hand settled lightly onto his knee and Cas looked up to see Dean watching him. The firelight danced over his skin, bathing half of his features in shadow and complimenting the rest. “Are you having a nice time?”

“Very much,” Cas assured Dean. He noticed how tense his companion seemed and he placed his own hand over Dean’s on his leg as reassurance. “Are you enjoying our time together, Dean?”

“More than you know,” Dean said lowly. “Cas, I know that I was supposed to be interviewing you for this gig at the gym,”

Dean said. “But I don’t really need to know your credentials and stuff. If Gabe says you’re good, I trust his judgement. I just wanted to make sure that you’d fit in with our little family.”

“And?” Cas held his breath. 

“I’ve never seen someone who fits better,” Dean smiled. “I’d love to spend more time with you. I mean, you know...at work. You should come to work at the gym. I know you’ll do great and we could see more of one another.”

“Would you enjoy that, Dean? Seeing more of me?”

“Hell yeah,” Dean choked, his hand sliding up Castiel’s leg just a fraction. 

“Then I would be delighted to join your family.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me, Cas.”

They spoke softly, figuring out a few details. Castiel decided to stop by on Monday morning and fill out paperwork and get a look at the facility. “As long as I don’t have to teach classes, I should be fine,” he warned Dean.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Dean smiled, leaning in. 

Cas felt drawn to him, like moth to flame, and he too moved slightly toward Dean’s body. Their faces were mere inches from one another and Cas’ breath caught. He wanted to kiss this man so deeply. More than he’d wanted to with anyone in his past. Castiel wasn’t the most sexual of beings and while he’d had a few partners, he wasn’t incredibly experienced. He had never felt this  _ need  _ to touch another person. It was strange and unsettling, but he couldn’t stop. He leaned in, another inch. He could see a smattering of freckles across the bridge of Dean’s nose in the firelight. 

“Hey, Cassie—you ready to head out?”

Jerking back, Cas managed to glare across the fire at Gabriel who was staring at him innocently. Cas knew better. His brother was the ultimate cockblock. Lucifer had always complained about that when they’d been in school.

_ “Gabby barged in on me and Lilith again!” “Gabe found me under the bleachers with Meg, right when it was getting good!” “He set the chaperones on me at Prom and I couldn’t even get Guy out of his tux!” _

His brother had perfected the art of irritating Lucifer over the years, and now that Luci was gone, Gabe seemed to be keeping his skills sharp on Castiel.

“Of course, Gabriel,” Cas said neutrally. The moment was gone and it was always a good idea to sound as though you weren’t bothered by Gabriel—he could smell weakness. 

“Great,” Gabe hopped to his feet. 

The two of them thanked Bobby profusely and hugged or shook hands with everyone else assembled. Castiel noticed that Gabriel and Sam just awkwardly stared at each other for a minute without speaking. Much to his surprise though, Dean offered to walk him to Gabe’s vehicle. 

They strolled around the side of the house in the darkness, their hands brushing on occasion. Dean chatted about nothing in particular, mostly how happy he was to have Cas coming to work with them, though Castiel still wasn’t certain what his job was going to entail. Gabe bounded ahead of them and pulled himself into the driver’s seat of The Pineapple, turning on the engine. 

Castiel had one hand on the door handle and the other was being cradled in both of Dean’s palms. “It was really great to meet you, Cas,” Dean said roughly. “You have my number?”

Cas nodded. The new contact had been added within the first ten minutes of their acquaintance. “I will text you when we are safe at home,” he offered. 

“I’d like that,” Dean smiled. He leaned in, as though he was going to kiss Castiel, but at the last moment he made a sound and pulled back. “Well, I’ll see you on Monday, Cas. Have a good night.”

“You too, Dean.”

Climbing up into the Hummer, Cas smiled down at Dean as he closed the door. He had hardly buckled in when Gabe started peeling out of the drive, tossing gravel. 

“Looks like you made a new friend,” he commented. 

“Dean is a very nice man,” Cas said. “I look forward to getting to know him.”

“So, you got the job?”

“I did.”

“That’s great, Cas,” Gabriel sounded genuine. “You’re going to love it there, and the extra income will be good for us.”

“Yes.”

“So,” Gabe pried. “There’s nothing going on between you and Dean-o?”

Cas knew that he needed to shut that conversation down, and quickly. “Not at the moment,” he said. “What is going on between you and Sam?”

“Me and—Sam? No! Nothing is going on between me and Sam,” Gabe said defensively. “Why? Did he say something to you? Did Dean?”

Cas simply shook his head in amusement. “Nothing going on,” he said quietly. “I don’t believe you.”

“Mind your beeswax, little bro.”

“You do the same.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, and Gabe idled the Pineapple for a moment. “Just be careful,” he said. “I like Dean—he’s basically my best friend these days,” Gabe said. “But I know what you’re like Cassie, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, Gabriel.”

“You know you can come to me for anything,” Gabriel pressed. “I’ll always have your back, baby bro.”

“I know.” And he did. Gabriel had proven that over and over again during the years. He’d sacrificed for his family. Castiel knew that no matter what happened, his big brother would always be there for him. 

“Love you, Cas.”

“I love you too, Gabriel.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brandy Old Fashioned cocktails are relatively popular, especially these days. However, if you want a true treat from the Midwest, then you want a Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet, which is a Wisconsin delicacy in cocktail form. Trust me, when I drank, it was my all time fave, and I'm basically Gabriel in a lady meat suit.
> 
> **Brandy Old Fashioned Sweet (Wisconsin Style)**  
> -Make simple syrup 1/2 water, 1/2 sugar. Put one teaspoon of simple syrup into a tumbler glass.  
> -Orange Slice and a maraschino cherry go into the glass--muddle them.  
> -1 1/2 shot Brandy of your choice  
> -Add ice and top with 7-up.  
> -Garnish with more maraschino cherries and imbibe responsibly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leather Daddies, Awkward Boners, and Tiny Sparkly Penises...

It had been almost two weeks since the barbecue at Bobby’s place, and Sam was beginning to worry—Gabriel hadn’t retaliated. He should be thankful, possibly celebrating that he hadn’t found itching powder in his shorts or the air let out of his tires. Though, he knew, deep down that those were more Dean’s style. He had a horrible suspicion that Gabriel’s pranks were much more clever...and elegant. Now that he had some space from it, Sam could laugh at the diploma switch. It had taken time, effort, and cunning—since he always kept his office locked. Gabriel wouldn’t waste his time on something that a twelve year old could pull off, and Sam knew it. Which was why he was anxious. 

Sick of Sam jumping every time someone came around the corner, and always peeking into rooms before he entered, Dean suggested a Guy’s Night Out—just the two of them on Friday after work. They planned to grab dinner and a few beers before heading to the theatre to catch  _ ‘PiranhaTick _ ,’ the latest in Giant Animals Eating People fare. Both Winchesters had a weakness for the cheesy horror flicks, and would try to see as many as possible together. 

The movie was predictably bad, which made it amazing. The brothers cackled all the way through until the credits, eating way too much popcorn, and generally having a great time. When the lights came up, they left the theatre, chatting amiably as they walked out to Dean’s ‘67 Impala, ‘Baby.’

“I’m telling you,” Sam said. “The death of the head scientist doesn’t make any sense. There’s no way that the tick portion could regurgitate all of the blood inside of him to make the guy explode. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Looked fucking cool, though,” Dean said. “So who cares about scientific accuracy in a movie called ‘ _ PiranhaTick?’ _ ”

“I’m just saying.”

“You’re a fun sucker.”

“Better than a bloodsucker...Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The Winchesters laughed as they approached Baby, still talking about the ridiculous movie. Dean was the first one to notice the flyers. The cars they were passing were all covered in the leaflets, and Dean mused aloud what they could be for. “Probably a concert or something,” he suggested. 

When they reached their own vehicle, they saw that they had been left one of the papers as well. Snatching it up, Dean unfolded the hot pink flyer. As he read, his eyes began to bug out and he choked holding in laughter. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing,” Dean crumpled the paper into a ball and shoved it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. 

“Let me see,” Sam held out his hand. 

“Nope.”

Suspicion began to prickle at the back of Sam’s neck and he felt chilled.  _ No _ . He turned and snatched the leaflet off of the sedan next to them and began to read. 

_ Saucy Sammy: Free Thigh Massages for Leather Daddies. 920-555-8255 _

No! Sam looked around the parking lot in a panic. Almost every car had one tucked lovingly underneath the wiper blades. A few were scattered across the parking lot, and he saw at least two people holding one and reading. 

Without a thought, Sam took off. 

He sprinted between the cars, grabbing as many of them as he could find, gathering them to his chest while Dean followed him chuckling like a maniac. 

“You know, you could  _ help _ me, Dean!”

“It’s more fun to watch.”

“You’re such a dick!”

“ _ I’m  _ the dick?” Dean laughed. “I’m not the one who broadcast your number and weird kinks on a Friday night to a whole movie theatre.”

“No,” Sam spat. “That was just your new best friend.”

A large man nearby had just reached his car, a practical  _ tank _ with a license plate reading ‘Chief,’ and was examining the flyer. Sam ran right up to the man and yanked it out of his hands. 

“Sorry,” he said, looking  _ up _ at the guy—which was disconcerting all on its own. 

The Chief smiled down at Sam and said, “You wouldn’t happen to be Saucy Sammy, would you?”

“Uh,” Sam froze. “No! I’m just from the printer and we put down the wrong number. Apologies for the inconvenience, sir.”

Behind him, Dean was  _ giggling _ at the look on The Chief’s face when Sam called him ‘sir.’ Sam didn’t wait to see what else could happen to him tonight, he bolted back to Baby, his arms full of papers. Satisfied that he’d managed to get most, of not all, of the flyers, Sam tossed them into the backseat and buckled up. 

“Dean,” he yelled. “Let’s go!”

“I’m coming, Saucy Sammy,” Dean laughed as he saluted The Chief and followed Sam. 

As they pulled out of the movie theatre parking lot, leaving the disaster of Gabriel’s latest prank behind, Dean turned to Sam and said, “You gotta admit, he’s got style.”

Sam didn’t agree. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

In the time since Castiel had walked into his life, Dean was lost. He had no idea how to react to the serious and fascinating man who was currently sitting in a newly furnished office across the hall. Every time that he thought he knew what Cas would say or do, the man completely threw him. It was shocking; especially to a man like Dean who prided himself on reading others. 

Sitting at his desk, staring at his open door wasn’t helping him get anything done. But how could he concentrate with Castiel so... _ close _ . Dean shook his head and decided that he needed to work off some of his energy. The easiest way to do that would be to get his heart rate up— _ fast _ . 

Walking out into the gym, Dean surveyed the main cardio floor. It was the first area that was visible when someone entered Singer’s. In order to get to the locker rooms at the back of the building, walking through the majority of the gym was required. Bobby had set it up that way originally because he figured that people would feel more motivated if they saw others working out right away. It seemed to do the trick, so Sam and Dean had kept that way of life at Singer Fitness when Bobby had taken a back seat. 

He studied the machines, trying to decide which one he needed at that moment. Thankfully, his decision was soon made, and the machine in question was free. Dean strode confidently over to the rowing machine near the corner window and got comfortable. He strapped in his shoes and stretched his neck and back a little before picking up the T-handle and pulling back. The large wheel whirred to life with his motion and soon enough, Dean was rowing away, sweat dripping in rivulets down his spine. 

He wondered what Cas would look like covered in sweat. 

Dean grunted and began to row harder. That train of thought wasn’t helping matters and now he was rowing with half a chub. Fuck. In order to push the thoughts of Castiel—naked, sweating, and bringing him to the brink, Dean began to lose himself in the motion. He was pushing his limits physically, and doing everything he could to will his boner away. 

“Dean.”

Oh damn, Cas had such an amazing voice. All deep and rumbling—it sent shivers through Dean’s body. 

“Dean.”

Ugh, the sound of Cas saying his name was plucked straight out of his fantasies and now Dean was getting hard again. Son of a bitch. 

“Dean!”

_ Holy shit— _ it was  _ actually  _ Cas! Dean instinctually let go of the rowing handle and it snapped back into place with a sharp clack.

“Cas! Hey. I didn’t hear you.”

“I’m aware.”

Spinning in the chair of the rowing machine, Dean tried to face Castiel while simultaneously hiding his crotch. Freaking workout shorts, man! They did  _ nothing  _ to help in this situation. “What can I do ya for?”

Cas frowned slightly and tilted his head before saying, “I have been looking into the budget and I was wondering why you don’t offer any physical therapy sessions here?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean said, “Well, that’s because we don’t have anyone qualified.”

“You are.”

“Not technically,” Dean said. “I never graduated. I still have three more classes before I can take the certifying exam.”

“You should take those classes then.”

Dean tried not to show how much he bristled. “I don’t really have the time, or the money, Cas.”

“It would greatly improve the business,” Cas said. “And I spoke with Sam, he said you were talented and loved to do the work.”

“Well, we can't always do what we love, Cas.”

“I just—“

“No,” Dean huffed. “It’s not an option. Not right now. Is there anything else I can help you with?” 

Fuck, he felt like the world’s biggest ass the way that he snapped at the man. Cas was just trying to help. He didn’t know that Dean was broken. Couldn’t know. Sure, Dean  _ had  _ loved physical therapy. He had adored his classes and always looked forward to working with the clients he’d been assigned during clinicals. 

The problem was Bobby. 

Helping Bobby had been rewarding and amazing—Dean had been grateful that he’d been instrumental in getting his foster father back on his feet, literally. But it had been beyond painful to watch Bobby go through it. Now that Dean had seen it through the therapist  _ and  _ the caretaker’s eyes, he was...scared; worried about getting too attached to his clients. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said softly. “I was not aware that it was a sore subject.” He turned and began to walk away. 

“Hey wait, Cas!” Dean hopped up and jogged over, cutting off Castiel’s escape route and moving in front of him. “It’s just...it’s this whole  _ thing _ . I don’t want to get into it now. But going back to finish my schooling isn’t an option. Not anymore.” He paused for a moment. “I’d appreciate that you don’t mention this to Sammy.”

“I’m sure he would be disappointed,” Cas nodded. “He seemed eager to inform me that you would eventually be returning.”

“I let him think that,” Dean admitted. “But I just don’t see it happening.”

“Fine,” Cas agreed. “I won’t say a word. But you should. He deserves to know about whatever it is that is holding you back. And I am always here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

They gazed at one another for a charged moment and Dean felt a grin pulling at his lips as he basked in the piercing blue gaze. He could feel his dick twitching in his shorts, but he didn’t pay it much mind. At least, not until the slight movement piled Cas’ eyes downward. Suddenly, his crush was blatantly staring at his crotch and it wasn’t helping Dean remain professional in the least. He was at full mast now, and the head rubbing against the smooth mesh fabric was torturous. 

“Dean,” Cas said in that rumbling tone. The one that made every part of Dean want to sit up and pay attention. Every. Single. Part. “You should probably slip into the locker rooms and take a cold shower.”

“Uh huh.” Oh, Christ—he was so hard. 

“Dean.”

“Yeah Cas,” he breathed. 

“If I can see your erection then the clients can as well.”

Suddenly Dean realized they weren’t exactly in private. He was right out on the cardio floor with his dick practically poking out of his waistband! Talk about unprofessional. Plus, he didn’t need the extra attention. There were a few members who were rather pushy with their advancements, and he could see two of them already eyeing him up. 

Dean placed his hands over himself, which only made it more obvious and said, “Thanks, Bab—Buddy! Thanks buddy,” before waddling away to the men’s locker room. 

He could hear Castiel’s low chuckle behind him as he fled. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Come on now, Mildred,” Gabriel grinned. “You know I’m not that kind of boy.”

“Oh I seriously doubt that,” the older woman purred. 

Mildred was one of his regulars and had a performing background. She was one of the ladies of a certain age that were called ‘Bungalow Bunnies’ in  _ Dirty Dancing. _ She kept up with the routine and sometimes challenged Gabriel himself. And she was a terrible flirt. 

Gabe had been running a bit behind that morning due to Cas moping around the apartment for some reason. He kept looking at his phone when it beeped and shaking his head. As much as he wanted to pull the Big Bro Card and ask what was going on, Gabe knew that he had to let Cassie fly. He wasn’t going to suppress him like their father had done to them all. Still, if it went on much longer, he’d at least  _ ask _ .

Parking The Pineapple in his usual spot at the gym, the two of them had hurried inside, a few minutes late. Since it was Gabriel’s first class of the day, his studio was locked and dark. Most of his class was milling around the reception area in their neon clothes and leg warmers, waiting for him. 

Today, Gabriel had an electric blue spandex unitard on, complete with sweatbands. He felt  _ so  _ eighties. The outfits were a part of his ‘costume.’ He enjoyed dressing the part, and he knew that the old ladies, (and Kevin), enjoyed ogling his... _ assets. _ Half of his Senior Slide class were word of mouth customers who’d left their retirement communities to come watch him bounce around with their friends, and ended up staying. 

Mildred had fluttered out of the group and latched onto him, commenting on the color of his spandex and giving him a light slap on the butt. It made Gabriel laugh. He had no trouble with handsy older ladies. It wasn’t like he was getting hit on anywhere else lately; and Mildred was an attractive woman. Not that he’d actually  _ go  _ there. 

They turned as a group and began to head to the far studio that Gabriel had claimed, Mildred keeping up a steady conversation about the employees of the gym, as the rest of the class followed along behind. 

“All I’m saying,” she said. “Is that it’s unnatural that you’re all so incredibly cute. Look at that Dean,” Mildred practically swooned. 

“You’re throwing me over for Dean,” Gabe clutched his heart dramatically. “Mildred, I’m wounded.”

She playfully whapped him on the shoulder. “You are not,” she laughed. “I’ve seen the looks between you and Samuel.”

“What?” Gabriel knew his voice was high pitched and unconvincing but he couldn’t help himself. “No way. You need your eyes checked, sweetcakes.”

“I have excellent vision for my age,” Mildred said. “You two aren’t very subtle you know. With the pranks. Just like two little boys on the playground.”

Gabriel shrugged as they reached the door. “I neither confirm, nor deny.”

“You could have gone into politics,” she said. 

“No thanks,” Gabe snorted. “I think I’ve had my fill of the slightly shady spotlight.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

Fumbling with the giant messenger bag slung across his shoulder, Gabe dug around for the keys to the studio as his class shuffled around the hallway. When he unlocked the door, he was the first through the threshold, reaching to the side and flicking on the light switch. 

_ Bang! _

Suddenly, the air was  _ full  _ of glitter and confetti. It floated around him, settling on Gabriel’s hair, clothes, and the floor. It also got onto Mildred who was right next to him. 

“What the fuck?”

Mildred smacked him. “Language.”

“Sorry.”

Gabe looked around his studio which was now basically unusable because it would take  _ four hundred years  _ to get the glitter cleaned up and the floor would be too slippery for the Slide routines. He reached up and plucked one of the pieces of confetti out of his hair and held it up to inspect it. 

It was a teeny, tiny, confetti dick.

Next to him, Mildred was giggling and picking pieces off of herself saying, “Oh my, they’re tiny penises.”

Behind him there was unrestrained laughter and Gabriel whirled, finding exactly who he thought. Sam was half bent over, bracing his hands on his thighs, a thin white remote clutched in one hand as he gasped with mirth. “Your  _ face _ ,” he laughed. “Oh my god, Gabe—you should see your face!”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. This is a dick move, Sammy.”

“Literally,” Mildred piped up, causing Sam to start laughing once more. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gabe threw his hands in the air. “I can’t teach with all this glitter in here!”

Sam was absolutely no help and just smirked at him as Gabriel shook his head roughly, sending glitter and tiny dicks showering onto the floor. 

It was like the biggest, gayest, party of all time. 

Deep down, Gabriel was actually impressed. Sam would have had to come in early or stay late to rig up the confetti cannons over the door frame. And he would have had to lie in wait to hit the remote at the perfect moment. It took effort, and the dicks were actually fucking hilarious. It was one hundred percent something Gabriel himself would do. Kinda sucked being on the other end of it though. 

“Come on,” Gabriel said, shooting a glare that he didn’t quite feel at Sam. “We can use the yoga room today, everyone.”

Gabriel began to herd his students back down the hallway toward Sam’s studio as the tall yoga teacher sputtered. 

“You can’t,” he said. “I have an advanced class at nine!”

“And I have a class  _ now _ ,” Gabe said. “One that I can’t teach in my own room because it’s  _ covered in slippery glitter _ !” He eyed up Sam, his gaze raking all over Sam’s long, muscular frame. “My seniors make a hell of an effort to get here and they deserve their class. I doubt that you’d want to reschedule it and have to refund all that money for the inconvenience.”

Sam suddenly wasn’t laughing any longer. “I guess I’ll have to tell my class to come twenty minutes later then.”

“You do that, kiddo.”

Gabriel stomped away down the hallway toward the yoga studio where his seniors were waiting. He was amused, yes—but he was still irritated. Glitter was such a bitch to clean up. Mildred was still chuckling and saying that she was going to have to get some of the penis confetti for her granddaughter’s next birthday party. She begged off the class to go ask Sam where he’d found them. 

As Gabriel got everyone else going, he made sure to turn the music up to almost eardrum bursting level, just out of spite. As he began the opening warmup routine, glitter flew off of him as well as several pieces of the penis confetti. 

Sam Winchester was going to pay. Especially because of the cleanup. He knew that it was going to be an absolute  _ bitch _ . What Gabriel  _ didn’t  _ know was that he’d be finding pieces of dick glitter for the next two weeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dick confetti exists. You can buy it at Spencer Gifts.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prank War comes to a screeching halt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING—A teeny bit NSFW in this when it comes to the writing. A Lot of NSFW when it comes to the art at the bottom. Artist credit goes to my dear friend, Blue,  
> [i-am-the-blue-sunshine](https://i-am-the-blue-sunshine.tumblr.com/) ...but be warned, there are Peens in the pic.
> 
> DeanansCas4Eva28, I know it’s been a rough time, but just remember that you are awesome and you deserve the best!! Love ya!! 💖

Things were getting out of hand at Singer Fitness. 

Between Gabriel renting a helium balloon tank and filling Sam’s office with the damn Mylar balloons that all said some variation of “Happy Holidays,” to Sam somehow moving Gabe’s car from his parking space every single day—tensions were running high. 

Sam had spent the last of his paycheck on a powerful universal remote called ‘Sound-B-Gone,’ so that he could randomly turn off Gabriel’s blaring pop music from the comfort of his office. He was exacting revenge for Gabriel’s latest dual pranks. 

First he’d put tissue in the front of Sam’s shoes making them too small for his foot, and then he had left a dollar bill on the ground, and hid nearby to rip a piece of cloth when Sam bent over to pick it up. Sam had blushed bright red and grabbed his ass in front of a room full of patrons thinking he’d ripped his shorts. Gabriel had howled with laughter and told him that he got two pranks for the price of one since “they weren’t his best effort.”

Sitting in his office, Sam worked quickly and quietly, and every few minutes he would press the remote’s ‘Off’ button. He didn’t even know if it was working properly, but he figured that he’d find out once the class was through. 

By the time the clock showed that the Eden Slide class was over, Sam decided to grab a quick workout. A lot of times, they would hang out on the gym floor and exercise in an attempt to get more personal training clients. Dean did it a lot. And Sam had a bit of restless energy to work off. 

He ran on the treadmill for forty minutes, working up a sweat on a rather steep incline. One of the gym bunnies that was always trying to get Dean to ask her out was eyeing him and Sam decided he was done for now. He didn’t want or need a run in with Lisa just yet. He’d seen her with his brother and Lisa was...persistent. 

Ducking into the weight room, Sam did a few reps of lat pull downs along with some regular pull ups on the long bars in the corner. Once his back muscles were screaming, Sam headed for the locker room. He had time for a quick shower before he had to get back to his paperwork. 

Sam stepped into the locker room and walked into the shower room. Back when Bobby had run things, both locker rooms had an open shower room built into them. It was a bare minimum kind of thing. Once Sam and Dean took over, they knew that they wanted a bit of privacy, though they were still budget conscious. They’d wanted to add full stalls, but they would have had to sacrifice on the pool and some of the newer equipment when they were first starting up. Singers had a steady business, but the Winchesters wanted to make it thrive again. They’d used the money on equipment and put in half sized shower dividers instead. It worked out that when a man of Sam’s stature was inside one of the shower areas, the divider came up to just under his chest. The fact of that never really bothered Sam—he’d never thought much of it. 

As he walked into the shower that afternoon, the revelation that he was pretty exposed in the stalls finally occurred to him. Steam billowed around Sam as he stepped into one of the stalls, and tossed his towel uncaringly over the divider. 

“Hey! Watch it Sasquatch!”

Sam blinked and looked at the stall to his left. Of fucking _course_ Gabriel was there, standing half under the hot water with one eye open and suds in his hair. “What are you doing here?” Sam realized how stupid the question was the moment he said it. Ugh, he wanted to bolt, but he needed a wash. 

“I’m slow dancing with an alien,” Gabe said sarcastically as he rubbed the soap off of his head. “What the hell does it look like I’m doing here?”

“Sorry,” Sam said. “I’m...tired.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you are,” Gabriel, now with both of those glorious golden eyes open, leaned forward and rested his elbows on the stall divider, which came up to his collarbone. Sam felt so fucking exposed. “You must be _exhausted_ after spending all morning finding a way to turn off my music every five minutes.”

So it _had_ worked. Good to know. Sam couldn’t help the humored snort that escaped him. 

“Uh huh,” Gabe said. “I knew it. Laugh it up, kiddo. I’ll get you for this,” Gabriel’s eyes trailed downward along Sam’s body. “And your little...well... _him_ too.”

“You’re such a pervert.”

“I’m not the only one sneaking a peek,” Gabe said, turning away to stick his head back under the water. He wasn’t lying either. As soon as Sam had realized that _Gabriel_ was the one next to him, he’d been ogling. He just thought he’d been subtle about it. Apparently not— _or_ Gabriel was just hyper observant. Sam wasn’t quite sure which scenario was more disturbing. 

“I wasn’t—“

“You were,” Gabe laughed and shook his finger at Sam. “Naughty boy.”

The words sent a zing through Sam’s body. The playful growl, the sparkle in Gabe’s eyes, the water running over what looked like baby soft skin over hard muscle—all of it combined to give Sam a raging hard on. 

He took a single step closer to the divider, his feet making a slap on the wet tiles loud enough to have Gabriel turning toward him. That mischievous, sexy smirk graced his lips and gave Sam vision of biting down on that pink pout. _Why_ did Gabriel have to be so damn hot? He ticked every one of Sam’s buttons, all wrapped up in a sly, albeit irritating, package. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t even want to _like_ Gabe as a person, much less nurse an embarrassing crush on the man. 

“Something on your big, moose mind, kiddo?”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “You.” 

It made Gabe’s eyes widen as he stepped toward Sam. They were so close, only separated by the inch and a half of plastic that divided their showers. Gabriel looked up at him, and Sam’s breath caught. There was something—something _electric_ and dangerous between them, and Sam wanted to _touch_. More than anything he suddenly needed to know what his hands felt like on Gabriel Novak’s body. 

“Am I interrupting something?” A throat cleared and they both jumped apart and turned. Dean was leaning against the wall of the shower room, arms crossed over his chest and fully clothed. 

“Dean-o,” Gabe smiled awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“I’m sure I don’t need to know the answer to that,” Dean looked pointedly between them. “Here’s the deal.” Dean stepped closer and walked right up to the edge of the showers, enough that he was getting some of the misting spray on himself. Placing his hands on each of their towels, he snatched them away and clutched them in his arms. “You two are driving everyone nuts. It was funny at first, but shit is getting out of hand. So,” he started to back away holding their towels. “You two are to report to my office as soon as you’re finished showering.”

“Cute, Dean-o,” Gabriel held out one hand for his towel but Dean just shook his head with a horrible smile. 

“Dean,” Sam said, his voice anxious. “Give us back our towels.”

“Nope,” Dean said. “Consider it a bit of payback. How’s this for a prank, eh?” With that, he turned and walked away, the towels slung over his shoulder, whistling like a total ass.

“Dean!” They both shouted at him, but Dean was gone—and so were the only covering they had. 

The two of them exchanged an uneasy look which led to Sam blushing and turning away. He didn’t notice that Gabriel did the same. They hurriedly finished washing, and turned off the water at the same time. Standing before one another, dripping wet and completely nude, both men shifted awkwardly on their toes. 

“We can just, you know,” Gabe shrugged one shoulder. “Make a run for it.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“On the count of three?”

“Okay,” Sam agreed. 

Both of them counted down, “One...Two...Three!” And Sam took off. 

As soon as he realized that Gabriel was just watching him though, he stopped and spun around, his hands attempting to hide his junk from view as he glared at the shorter man. 

“You… _ass_ ,” he shouted as he backed away, his palms over his crotch. 

Gabriel was grinning from behind the safety of the shower stall and making a show of checking Sam out. “Wow, Sam,” he whistled. “Get a load of the booty on _you_ ! I’ve never seen one so...round and _firm_.”

“Fuck you, Gabe.”

“You wish, kiddo.” 

Without another word, Sam backed out and around the corner into the thankfully empty locker room. Once he was out of sight, he ran to his personal locker, spun the combination, and threw it open. 

It was fucking empty. 

Sam could feel the blood drain from his face as he stared at the black walls of his locker. There wasn’t even a pair of shoes left. “What the fuck?”

“What is it?” Gabe called from the showers. 

For a moment, Sam considered ignoring him. “Dean must have taken my clothes,” he shouted back. “My locker is empty.”

“Well grab a freaking towel then. I’ll come out when you’re modesty is protected Samalicious.”

That was a good idea. Turning toward the large wall where the towels were kept, folded and tucked into a huge shelving unit, Sam blanched once again. The rack was empty. There wasn’t a single towel left in the locker room! “No, no, _no_!”

“What now?” Gabe’s voice was echoing oddly from bouncing off of the tiled walls. 

“There’s no fucking towels,” Sam’s voice hitched in pure panic. 

“What?” 

Suddenly Gabe was next to him, panting slightly and very, _very_ naked. He wasn’t even attempting to cover himself and Sam was only a little ashamed to admit that his eyes were drawn to the other man’s cock. Holy _fuck_! Gabriel was packing some impressive stuff. Sam knew that he was bigger than average, but Gabe’s dick was certainly larger and a little thicker. For a moment, he allowed himself to wonder what that monster would feel like all stuffed up inside of him and Sam shuddered. 

“That motherfucker,” Gabe was now pacing, his dick swinging and Sam couldn’t look away. 

He gulped and forced his eyes up to Gabe’s face. “What the hell are we going to do?”

“You’ll have to wear something of mine, kiddo—though I doubt it will fit.”

Gabriel stalked toward the bank of lockers and undid the combo lock on one of them. When he opened the door, Sam didn’t need to see inside to know that it was empty too—the slump of Gabe’s shoulders told him enough. 

“We’re going to have to figure something out,” Sam said. “We have to meet Dean in his office.”

“Naked?”

“No,” Sam said. “Well...I mean...I don’t know. Shit. To get to the offices we have to go through the damn cardio room.”

“Yup.”

“I’m not walking out there like this. We could get arrested!”

“I doubt that will happen.”

“You’re okay with going out there butt fucking naked?” Sam was incredulous. 

“Not particularly,” Gabe said, putting both hands on his hips and glaring up at Sam, hiding _nothing_ . “But I’m not exactly shy, _or_ ashamed of what I’ve got. We can run.”

“On slippery, wet, bare feet?”

“With our dicks flapping in the breeze,” Gabe added wryly. “Sorry, kiddo, but I really don’t see another way. We don’t have clothes, towels, or our cell phones. So what do you suggest?”

Sam folded. His shoulders dropped and so did his head. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I am going to _kill_ Dean for this.”

“Save me a few pieces,” Gabe growled. 

“Deal.”

For the first time, the two men agreed on something and they smiled at one another. It was a sappy, yet charged moment before they both realized they were still naked and trapped. 

“Okay,” Gabe finally said. “Let’s just fucking go for it. Cover our junk and take off running.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. I wouldn’t trust me either. How about this? I’ll go out first, and _you_ follow _me_.”

Sam considered the proposition for a moment before nodding. “Fine.”

They walked to the door of the locker room. Gabe had one hand on the door and one (barely) covering his junk. Sam had both hands over his and was just praying that the cardio room wasn’t packed full. It was midday, so there was a chance that it wasn’t too busy out there. 

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and grinned up at Sam. “Let’s light this candle!” 

And the door swung open.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Considering the fact that he was boiling mad, Gabriel thought that he was giving off the aura of nonchalant pretty well. The very last thing he wanted to do was sprint through the cardio floor butt ass naked, but here he was—doing just that. 

As soon as the door opened, Gabriel took off. He could hear Sam running behind him and wished the kid was in the front. At least Gabe could have hidden behind the sexy moose in that scenario. Plus he could have watched Sam’s ass muscles bunch as he ran, and Gabe was one hundred percent certain that was a sight that shouldn’t be missed. 

They rounded the corner into the cardio section, hands over their junk, and that’s when they saw them—Gabriel’s Senior Slide class. 

Oh my _god_ —they were all there! Mildred, Ethel and Gertrude, even that grumpy old geezer Frank. Gabriel skidded to a stop at the sight and he saw the eyes of the elderly ladies light up in anticipation. 

“My my,” Mildred cooed, as Gertrude made grabby hands toward him. 

Gabriel instinctively backed up and bumped straight into Sam who yelped. “Ladies,” Gabe said, dipping his head and keeping his hands firmly over his dick. “Frank.”

“Is this some weirdo sex thing?” Frank asked, glaring at them both over his glasses. 

“Uh— _no!_ Not at all,” Gabe stammered, glancing up and behind him to Sam, who he was still pressed against. “It’s a...prank...thing—woah!” Gabe jumped as Ethel’s gnarled fingers brushed his side. “No touching the goods, Eth! Sammy? Come on.”

Sam’s body was frozen, but his head was on a swivel looking at the crowd of old ladies in front of them and the snickering people on the elliptical machines at their back. Gabriel _really_ didn’t want to have to move one of his hands to get Sam moving, so he did the only thing he could think of. He thrust his hips backward and bumped his ass against Sam’s hands. The poor kid whimpered. “Sam!”

“Yeah?” It came out in a whisper. 

“Let’s. Go.” They began to slowly move around the seniors, their backs to the wall as Gabriel said, “Show’s over ladies...and Frank.” The old ladies groaned, but as soon as Sam and Gabriel turned around to bolt down the hallways, cheers erupted at their retreating backsides. 

They slid down the hall on their dripping toes and careened into Dean’s office, slamming the door closed behind them. 

That was when Gabriel looked up and came face to face with none other than Bobby Singer.

“Oh _shit_!”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit,’ is right,” Bobby said leaning against Dean’s desk. 

Next to him, Sam looked mortified and also incredibly furious as he glared at Dean who was casually seated behind his workstation, snickering. “Here ya go, Sammy,” Dean said, tossing a pair of green boxer briefs to Sam, who pulled them on hastily. “You didn’t have any underwear, so here you go, Gabe,” Dean gave him one of the terry cloth client towels to wrap around his waist. 

“You’re too kind, Dean-o,” Gabe growled as he dropped into one of the empty chairs. He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be a quick chat. 

“What kind of a psycho doesn’t wear underwear to work?” Bobby wondered. 

Gabe raised his hand and pointed at himself with one finger, “A psycho who wears spandex and doesn't want panty lines.”

“Jesus H,” Bobby grumbled. 

Sam opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Bobby pointing at the chair next to Gabe and telling him to take a seat. Displaying his smarts, Sam listened. 

“Okay, you two,” Bobby settled himself between them, resting on the front of Dean’s desk, arms crossed, and giving them the stink eye. “Here’s how this is going to happen. This is a place of _business_ . So you’re going to do _business_ here and not the funny kind. Ya got me?”

“Yes sir,” Sam said, while Gabe silently nodded. 

“The pranks _stop_ . Now. And the two of you are going to find _some_ way to get along, or else.”

“Or else…?” Gabriel said leadingly. He wasn’t trying to be a smart ass, it just came naturally. 

“Or else, you don’t want to know,” Bobby said. 

“Look, guys,” Dean chimed in. “I didn’t want to call Bobby in, but the thing with the penis glitter shit messed up the class schedules for the rest of the week and we can’t have that.” Dean took a breath. “Besides, I think I know Gabe well enough by now, and I’ve been in plenty of prank wars with Sammy—you two aren’t going to stop without an intervention.”

“So this is your intervention,” Bobby said. “The only one you’re gonna get.”

This time, they both said, “Yes, sir,” in unison. 

“Good. Now you two stay in here and figure out how you’re going to make this work and start getting along. Dean and I are taking over your classes for the rest of the day.”

“You?” Gabe raised an eyebrow at Bobby. “You’re going to dance around with my old folks, Singer?”

“And if I am?”

“He’s not,” Dean said. “Charlie is taking the Slide class, and I’ll do... _yoga_ ,” he said the word like it was a curse. “Bobby’s going to run the front desk and make sure you two don’t kill each other during your peace summit.”

Dean and Bobby moved to the door to leave, and Bobby said one last time, “Make this work,” before he shut the door, leaning Gabe alone with Sam. 

The loud click of the lock sounded, as Dean locked them in with his keys and Gabriel and Sam exchanged a look. This was going to _suck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t do the prank that Dean did. It’s super mean.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buttercream comes back for a hot second and the boys come to a decision on how to get over their aversion to one another...Hint--I'm sure you all figured it out in Chapter One...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW Chapter. Super duper NSFW.
> 
> DeanansCas4eva28: I know that this is a crap time, lady. I am so sorry that you're having to go through this because its the worst and so hard. I hope that some smutty Sabriel can cheer you up. I am always here for you, just like I know that you're always here for me. AKF Lady!!

“Okay,” Gabe said, crossing his arms, uncaring about the fact that his towel was dangerously close to gaping open. “I’m not going to say that they’re right, but--”

“--But they’re right,” Sam finished.

“Maybe a little,” Gabe said.

Both men blew out sighs and looked at one another. It only took a few seconds for Sam to burst into laughter. “This might be the most ridiculous thing that I have ever gotten myself into.”

“This is very tame for me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

“So how do you propose we get ourselves passed this?” Gabe said. “I have an idea or two.”

“Yeah?” Sam perked up. “Like what?”

“Well, hate sex is always a damn good time,” Gabriel winked and took great pleasure in the pink blush that colored Sam’s cheeks. 

“Pass.”

“Your loss, kiddo.” Gabriel tilted back in his chair the way that he usually did, his towel moving to expose more of his muscular thigh. He knew  _ exactly  _ what he was doing, and he smirked when Sam’s eyes darted down to his waist. 

“Okay,” Sam said suddenly. “Let’s say I’m not totally adverse to the idea. How would we go about doing this?”

Gabriel’s chair fell back to the ground with a thunk and he sat up in surprise. “Are you serious? I was half joking.”

“Well, I’m half serious,” Sam countered. “Honestly, it’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

Gabe snorted. “Of course it’s not—we’d be explosive together, Samalicious.”

Sam eyed him, crossing his arms over his bare, muscular chest and Gabe had to force himself not to drool. Cripes, the kid was just plain  _ ripped _ . It was all kinds of unfair. But here he was, in all his perfection, considering Gabriel as a bedmate. Granted, for hate sex, but beggars can’t be choosers, and Gabe would gladly take the godly moose in any way that he could. 

“Well,” he made a point to stare right back at Sam in a challenge. “What do ya say?”

A muscle in Sam’s jaw twitched just before his perfect lips curled into a devilish smile. “Why not,” he said. “We can fuck out the tension. Maybe it will work and we can do this on the regular. I could use to let off some steam.”

Clapping his hands together Gabriel hopped to his feet and stuck out his hand. They shook on it, sealing their little carnal bargain. Stealing a pen and sticky note from Dean’s desk, Gabe scribbled out his address and handed it over with a grin. “Seven pm sharp, kiddo. And if you’re late, I’ll spank you red.”

“I look forward to it,” Sam snatched the paper with a feral grin. 

Deciding that their business was concluded and they should attempt to find their missing clothes, both men went to the door before remembering that it was locked. Gabriel groaned, but Sam simply walked back to Dean’s desk and rifled through the doors until he came up with a warped looking bobby pin. 

As Gabriel watched with awe, Sam made quick work of the lock. After about thirty seconds the lock clicked and Sam stood, opening the door to a sight that they both would claim scarred them forever. 

Dean and Castiel we’re leaning against the opposite wall, their arms locked around one another and their mouths practically suctioned together. Gabriel and Sam were frozen for a moment watching their brothers making out before Sam finally cleared his throat loudly enough to be heard. As though they’d been shocked, Dean and Cas jumped apart and began to look anywhere but at each other. 

“Congrats, bro,” Gabe said. “You bagged a Winchester.” He looked at Dean with uncharacteristically serious eyes. “Don’t hurt him, or this prank war will look like child’s play. Ya got me, Dean-o?”

“Understood.” Dean was standing stiffly, almost at attention. “Have you two managed to work out your differences?”

“We’ve...come to an agreement,” Sam said awkwardly. 

“Excellent,” Cas finally spoke. “I have replaced your clothing in your lockers.”

“Thank you,” Sam said. Gabriel was still a bit pissy about the whole thing, so he refused to say anything about it. 

“I might be home a little late tonight,” Sam said. “Gabe and I are going to work things out, outside of the office, if that’s okay.

“Yeah,” Dean said, turning to Cas with a smile. “You can totally come over and we can watch movies and have dinner and—“

“I would be more than pleased to spend time with you this evening,” Cas said. 

The two of them were staring sappily at one another. It was gross, so Gabriel made very mature gagging sounds before turning to head back to the locker room. “See you tonight, Samsquatch. Bring your A-game.”

As he left, he heard Dean ask what he was talking about. Sam’s response of, “None of your business,” had Gabriel grinning wickedly with anticipation.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam didn’t want to admit how much care he’d taken with his appearance that evening. He’d discarded three shirts before finally settling on one of his favorites and forcing himself to leave. The drive to Gabriel’s apartment was quick and he didn’t hit a single red light. Maybe it was a sign—a sign that this was the best course of action. The right one. 

Pulling into a visitor spot, Sam turned off the car and got out. He looked around the parking lot, with it’s one working light and shook his head. Gabe didn’t deserve to live in a run down place such as this. 

First thing tomorrow, he was going to talk to Dean about raising the Novak’s salaries so they could both afford to live somewhere safe. Sam didn’t like thinking about Gabe, or Cas, in a place like this. Cas was his friend, and Gabriel...Gabriel was his—what? Frenemy? Hate Fuck Buddy? Hafuddy? Who knew at this point. Though Sam had a sneaking suspicion that he didn’t actually  _ hate  _ Gabriel. 

With a deep breath to steel himself, Sam made his way to the dark building. The elevator creaked under his weight and he silently hoped that it didn’t snap off of its cables and plummet. Yeah, Gabe needed to get out of here. If only so Sam wouldn’t have to return if he and Gabe decided to keep this Hate Sex Solution going on. 

When he reached apartment fifteen, Sam hesitated just a moment before raising his fist and knocking. The door flung open as though Gabriel had been standing on the other side waiting for him. Based on the wild, nervous look in Gabe’s eyes, he might have been doing just that. 

“Come on in, Sammy,” Gabe stepped aside and made a welcoming flourish with his arm. 

Unlike the rest of the building, Gabriel’s place was tidy and well cared for, though sparse. He imagined that after fleeing their old life, the Novak brothers had likely left behind most of their belongings.

As soon as he fully stepped into the apartment, a small white dog with brown spots came barreling at him and banged into his shins. The dog got up on their hind legs and put their paws against Sam’s pants, wagging their fluffy, curled tail rapidly. Two small barks sounded and Sam smiled brightly and bent over to pet the creature. “Who’s this?”

“That’s Buttercream,” Gabe said. “And she’s a shameless flirt. She’ll bug you for pats and treats until you’re fed up with her cuteness.”

“I doubt that would ever be possible,” Sam countered. “She’s adorable.”

“She also probably recognizes your scent from when she wore all your clothes.”

Sam straightened and laughed. “I  _ thought  _ she looked familiar. Cute little girl.”

A bottle of champagne was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter and Gabriel handed it over to Sam, asking him to open it. Sam didn’t recognize the brand.

“We can start our new dynamic off with a little Toast of Truce, what do ya say, kiddo?”

“Sounds good,” Sam replied, pulling the foil and cage off of the bottle. 

Placing his thumbs just under the bottom lip of the cork, he made a point to not aim at anything--especially Buttercream, or Gabriel, he supposed--and pushed, forcing the top off. 

The cork shot into the air and bumped against the ceiling. It was followed by huge, rainbow colored streamers that shot out of the bottle and covered the floor, and Sam—who most certainly did  _ not  _ yelp in surprise. 

A few feet away, Gabriel was bent over at the waist, laughing so hard that tears were falling from his eyes. “Oh holy fuck—you should see your face!”

“Not funny,” Sam managed, but he was trying to hold back a grin of his own. Gabriel had definitely got him. How had he not noticed that the weight of the bottle was off? Stupid, rookie mistake. 

“Yes it was,” Gabriel straightened and opened the fridge, pulling out another bottle of champagne. “I had to get you one last time—my reputation as a Trickster depended on it.” Gabe repeated the same movements that Sam had just performed, only when the cork on his bottle flew off, there was only a small overflow of bubbly champagne. “I promise that from now on, I’ll be good.”

“I’d prefer it if you weren’t.”

“Why Sam-a-lam! I thought the whole point of this was to make us both behave,” Gabriel’s gorgeous whiskey eyes twinkled. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I want you to be a good boy at work...not so much when we’re alone,” Sam clarified.

“ _ That  _ I can do, kiddo.” Gabriel handed him a mason jar full to the brim with champagne.

Both of them held up their glasses as Gabe stepped closer to Sam with a devastatingly handsome smirk on his face. That  _ look _ —it spoke volumes to Sam. Teasing him with all of the things that Gabriel was going to do to him. 

“Here’s to working off our frustration in a different way,” Gabe grinned and clinked his glass against Sam’s.

“To a new sort of relationship,” Sam added, grinning as he took a sip of the bubbly. 

Gabriel chugged half of his glass down and smacked his lips together. “Okay,” he said, as though coming to a decision. “I’m going to take the little ButtCream out for her walkies, and  _ you _ ,” he pointed at Sam. “Are going to go into the first room on the right and strip.”

“Is that an order?”

“Consider it one, kiddo.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam replied cheekily. 

As Gabe got his small dog into her harness, Sam finished off his champagne at an appropriate pace. However, once the door closed behind Gabriel, he was racing to the bedroom, his shirt half over his head as he stumbled through the door. 

Stripping in record time, Sam was naked in moments. Well… _ mostly _ naked. He tried to figure out how he wanted to be positioned when Gabriel returned. While he waited, Sam tried a few different poses before he settled on the tried and true favorite for bottoms the world over. Propping himself up on his hands and knees on the bed, Sam made sure that he was near the end, exposing his backside as the gift that it was. He leaned forward onto his elbows and rested on the mattress to wait, ass in the air. 

*~*~*~*~*~*

Buttercream was taking her sweet time to pick a damn bush to pee on and Gabriel was bouncing on his toes in his impatience. “Come on you little Butt! Daddy has a very sexy moose upstairs waiting to be ravished. Just  _ pee _ for the love of all that is holy!”

She looked up at him with her big baleful brown eyes and Gabe melted. “Okay, sweetness, I’m sorry. Take your time.”

Fortunately for Gabe, his precious dog took pity on him and immediately did her business. They jogged back inside and Gabe set Buttercream up in a big nest of blankets on the couch with a rubber chew toy that looked like a narwhal and dumped about half a bag of treats into a pile next to her. 

“Be a good girl,” he kissed her on her furry head. “I love you ButtCream. Sweet baby.” He waved goodbye to his dog without shame as he left to go join Sam in the bedroom. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he set it to a Backstreet Boys playlist, just to irritate Sam, and put his hand on the door knob. He was so ready for this. However, when Gabriel opened the door, he was  _ not _ prepared for the sight that greeted him. 

Sam, on all fours, wearing a bright yellow jockstrap.

It was the same color as his damn car! Gabriel’s mouth fell open at the sight of those thick straps encasing Sam’s perfectly round ass. His boy was leaning down onto his elbows so that his butt was stuck up into the air and through the slightly parted cheeks, Gabe could see Sam’s perfect, puffy little hole. 

Unconsciously, moaning, Gabe shut the door behind him with a click and walked over to Sam. He rested a palm on one of the fleshy, firm butt cheeks and gave a squeeze. Sam moaned and curved his back at the touch, which rocketed Gabe to full hardness. 

“Damn, kiddo—look at you.”

“Figured you’d enjoy it,” Sam grinned cheekily over his shoulder. 

Gabriel hummed. “All this for me,” he said. “I’m beginning to like you more and more Sammy.”

“Lucky me.”

In response, Gabe swatted him on the ass and said, “Don’t sass me, kiddo—or you’ll get just what you want.”

Moving away from the perfect offering that was Sam, Gabriel grabbed some lube and a condom off of his dresser. Hurrying back to Sam, Gabriel realized how eager he looked, and for some reason, he didn’t care. Sam was gorgeous, smart, funny, could take a prank or two, and apparently wanted  _ him. _ It was surreal. 

Running a hand along Sam’s lower back and the rise of his ass, Gabriel grinned in anticipation. This was going to be amazing—he’d make sure of it. “How do you want this, Samshine? Just like this? You want me to take you apart and put you back together from behind?”

Sam sucked in air and nodded. “Yes!”

“Fuck, you’re perfect aren’t you?”

“This music isn’t perfect.”

“Don’t knock the Backstreet Boys.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a teenage girl in the nineties, you weirdo.”

“If you keep flirting with me, big boy, I’m not going to fuck you the way that you want.” That shut Sam up.

Clicking open the bottle of lube, Gabe coated his fingers until they were shiny and slick. The smell of cake batter hung heavily in the air from the product and Sam rolled his eyes at him. “Of course you have flavored lube that smells like a bakery.”

“You know me so well.”

Sam opened his mouth to presumably make another snarky comment, but he was silenced when Gabriel’s thumb pressed to his hole and began to circle his rim. “That’s a good boy,” Gabe cooed at him. “Keep your mouth  _ shut _ .”

“Fuck you.”

“No,” Gabe winked at Sam when he looked over his shoulder. “Fuck  _ you _ .” He pushed a finger into Sam abruptly, causing the taller man to moan loudly. “That’s more like it.”

Sam arched his back again into the touch, and Gabriel swirled the finger inside of him, crooking it just a little. Brushing over Sam’s prostate made him writhe and gasp. Gabriel took great pleasure in the view as Sam pushed his ass backward onto Gabe’s hand and breathily begged for more. 

“You like that,” Gabriel said. It wasn’t a question. 

“Don’t, oh...mistake...my sexual...pleasure for liking, ugh...you.”

“I’ll endeavor not to,” Gabe said sarcastically. When he got another look from Sam, he added a second finger without warning and said, “I know big words too, Samalicious.”

Circling both fingers inside of the yoga instructor, Gabriel smirked at how beautiful Sam looked bucking and wiggling on the bed, his jock-clad ass up in the air. Fuck, he seemed so eager. Gabriel was still trying to process the fact that this was really happening. 

By the time he was three fingers deep, Sam was sobbing as he begged for Gabe’s dick. It was a heady kind of power to have over someone of Sam Winchester’s caliber. Oh fuck, Gabe was going to enjoy this. 

When he removed his fingers, Sam let out a hiss and a, “Nooooo,” which might have been the cutest thing. His puffy hole was gaping just a fraction, clamping around nothing, and Gabriel wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the tight heat of Sam. 

Patting Sam’s hip, Gabe instructed him to move forward on the bed. When the younger man protested, Gabe leaned down and brushed his lips against Sam’s ear saying, “If you don’t do what I tell you, I’m not going to fuck your pretty little ass, Sammy. So if you want to be pounded into the mattress, you better listen to me, kiddo.”

That was all it took to have Sam scrambling forward to give Gabriel what he wanted. It made Gabe chuckle. He opened the zipper on his jeans, pulling out his massive cock, and then grabbed the condom, moving to put it on when Sam seemed to snap out of his gaze enough to say, “No. Wanna feel you.”

“When were you last tested?” 

Sam groaned, canting his hips. “Eight months ago, I haven’t been with anyone for over a year.”

“I was tested right after Cassie and I moved here and I haven’t been with anyone either.”

“Please.”

“You sure? You want me bare?” Gabriel had to make sure that was what Sam truly wanted. He was sort of super into consent. 

“Yes,” Sam hissed, moving his hips again and tormenting Gabe with that damn yellow jock that looked so bright against Sam’s tan flesh. “Want to feel you fill me up.”

Sucking in air through his teeth at the words, Gabe tossed the condom over his shoulder and climbed up onto the bed behind Sam. Gently pressing on Sam’s right hip and lower back, Gabriel moved his lover to where he needed him. Fucking height differences. Sam didn’t even flinch into the stretch as his knees slid farther apart and his shoulder sank to the bed, putting his perfect ass right at Gabe’s level.

“Yoga does a body good,” Gabe commented. 

“This is nothing,” Sam chuckled breathily. “You should see some of the poses I get into on a daily basis.”

“Maybe I should sit in on a yoga class sometime.”

“I don’t allow observers, I’d get you to...ah,” he gasped as Gabriel teased his hole with the head of his cock. “Oh...bend over,” he finished. 

“I’ll bet you would,” Gabe shifted his hips, lined up perfectly and began to push into Sam’s willing body. 

“Oh,” they both gasped in unison.

“Fuck, kiddo—you feel so good!”

“Gabriel! More, please!”

Rocking his hips, Gabriel filled him slowly, inch by inch. When he finally bottomed out, he paused—both to give Sam time to adjust to his girth, and also to enjoy the view. 

Still wearing all of his clothes, the zipper on his pants was scraping the flesh of Sam’s backside gently. His bare cock was stuffed deep inside of Sam, who was stretched wide. The yellow jockstrap framed the younger man’s ass perfectly, giving Gabriel a hell of a lot of material for his spank bank. He’d known that Sam would look amazing in a jock, spread out before him—he’d called it. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Gabe gasped. “So tight and so pretty draped out like this for me. All mine—mine to take and fuck and fill, isn’t that right, kiddo.”

Sam’s face was buried in his arms and he was almost sobbing in pleasure as he said, “Oh fuck, yes! I need you!”

“I knew that you’d surrender,” Gabe chuckled. 

Sam’s head shot up and he swiveled his head over his shoulder toward Gabe. “I am absolutely  _ not  _ surrendering to you.”

“I think you are, Sammoose. I think you’re going to do everything I tell you so that I’ll fuck your pretty ass. ‘You need me,’ remember?” He thrust his hips, and grinned as the blunt head of his dick rammed directly into Sam’s sweet spot. 

Beneath his fingers, Sam let out a desperate moan. Suddenly instead of arguing, he was chanting, “Please, please, Gabriel! Fuck me please! More, oh god, I need it!”

“I know you do, kiddo—and I’m going to give it to you good.” Pulling out slowly, Gabriel came half out before pushing back in. It was a lazy, sedate pace, and it was driving Sam crazy. “Look at you, falling apart for me. You’re just begging for me to fill you up like a dirty boy, aren’t you, Sammy? You want my come inside of you, don’t you? Naughty boy.”

“Oh fuck, yes...please, fill me up, harder Gabe, please.! Fuck me harder. Yes, ah, yes, more, Gabriel, please, more!”

As Sam babbled and begged, Gabe began moving a little faster. He had both hands on Sam’s hips, running his fingers lightly along the sides. Without warning, he slipped his hands under the material of the jock and pulled them up, stretching high as he could go. Keeping up his steady pace, Gabe released the straps, which smacked down hard onto Sam’s ass cheeks. 

Sam cried out and the sound was  _ gorgeous _ .

Keeping his slow, even pace, Gabriel continued to rock into Sam, watching as the younger man fell apart. Once he had Sam begging incoherently, he began to pick up the pace. It was getting difficult for him to keep control when such a willing and needy partner was begging Gabe to fuck him raw. 

Pulling out just a bit, Gabe slammed into Sam’s ass  _ hard _ . Enough to pull a squeak from his partner. With that, Gabriel began to fuck Sam in earnest, pounding deep into his lover’s ass, while Sam screamed his name. 

Shifting his hands, Gabriel used the right to grip Sam’s hip tightly, while the left hand pushed down hard on Sam’s lower back. He pressed Sam into the mattress, bracing his hands on Sam’s body while using his thighs to help with the powerful thrusts. He fucked roughly into Sam’s tight hole, muttering the other man’s name like a prayer. 

“Sam, Sam, Sammy. So good for me, kiddo.”

“Yes! I’m a good boy! Harder, Gabe—fuck me harder, Angel!”

_ ‘Angel? That was new,’ _ Gabe thought. He was too lost in the sensations to give it much more thought however, and returned his concentration on Sam and their orgasms.

“You gonna come for me, Sammy? Are you going to come just from me fucking your tight little ass?”

“Oh fuck yes!”

“Good boy.”

Gabriel was truly fucking Sam into the mattress. He was almost pressed flush to the blankets as Gabriel held him down, shoving his fat cock so far into Sam’s hole. The familiar coil of pleasure was growing in Gabe’s body and he knew that he wouldn’t be much longer. 

“I’m gonna come,” he warned.

“Oh yes…me too. I’m going to come too. Gabe you feel so good inside of me.”

“Glad to hear it,” Gabriel grunted, pumping his hips. He was so close. 

Suddenly, Sam tensed and began to practically sob. The inner muscles of his ass clamped down powerfully on Gabe’s cock, ripping the orgasm from him. As Gabe came, filling Sam’s ass with his seed, he made small, shallow thrusts, milking his orgasm as long as he could. Another load of cum shot out of him and beneath him, Sam moaned loudly. 

“Yeah, Gabe, fill me up with you cum! Feels so good, Angel!”

In the throes of his orgasm, Gabriel was calling Sam’s name--his real name, not some insane version of it, and he didn’t even realize what he’d done. Sam did. Gabriel missed the saucy smirk on the younger man’s face as Gabe came down from his high.

When Gabriel finally pulled out, cum began to leak from Sam’s puffy hole. It was fucking gorgeous and Gabe told him so, pulling a cute blush from the tall man. Gabriel finally collapsed onto the bed next to Sam, who rolled over to face him, leaking and sated.

“Wow.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Holy fuck, kiddo.”

_ ‘Sometimes I wish I could turn back time. Impossible as it may seem. But I wish I could, so bad, baby. Quit playin’ games with my heart…’’ _

Sam groaned and covered his eyes. “You have such  _ shitty _ taste in music, Angel.”

“Oh fuck you,  _ and  _ your Enya soundtrack to life.”

“I’m definitely down for the fucking part again,” Sam smiled.

“Yeah, kiddo. We were fire,” Gabriel said. “I’ve never had sex that good before--hate sex or not.”

Sam grinned. “So, same time tomorrow?”

“It’s a date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is one more chapter left for this, an epilogue. I am hopeful that it shall be posted soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the road, kiddos!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue to round things out.

_ One Year Later... _

Sam was anxious, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. 

He was standing in Dean’s office with his brother and Cas, practically sweating his ass off with nerves. Rubbing his hands together, he barked out a humorless laugh as he realized how clammy his palms were. “This is insane.”

“It’s perfectly normal,” Cas said. 

“Yeah...it probably is,” Dean added unhelpfully. 

“You suck,” Sam told his brother. 

“Not as much as you.”

“Okay,” Sam glared. “That was  _ one  _ time!”

“I don’t need to walk into the supply closet for more Clorox wipes and find you swallowing down Gabriel’s—“

“Dean, do not continue to speak,” Cas said sternly to his boyfriend, which miraculously shut Dean up.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

There was a heavy silence. Sam weighed what he was about to do and wished that there was any other way...but there wasn’t. It had to happen like this. Shit. 

“Okay,” he said, his features blank. “Let’s get this over with.”

He left the office with Dean and Cas trailing behind him, whispering. Those two were never any help, were they? Too busy swallowing one another’s faces off to help Sam with anything. Whatever. He could do this.

The music from Gabriel’s Eden Slide class was blaring—per usual—echoing down the hallway at an obnoxious level. Even after all of this time, Sam hasn’t been able to get Gabe to turn the damn music down—at least not for the senior’s class. 

Pausing in front of the door, Sam took a few calming breaths before he just went for it. Pushing the door to the room open, Sam stomped inside and made a beeline for the stereo system. The first thing he did was cut the music, and the silence was deafening in the room. 

All of the elderly ladies—and Frank—stopped dancing about and stared at him. “Hey, kiddo!” Gabe said, brightly. “I’m in the middle of a Slide, can we talk later?”

“No.”

“But my—“

“You can’t keep playing this stupid music so loudly, Gabriel,” Sam yelled. “I mean seriously, it’s been a freaking year and you’re still doing this.”

Gabriel’s features crumpled in confusion. “I thought that we’d decided that it was okay when I had the senior class?”

“Well, it’s not.” 

Suddenly Gabe was glaring a little, hands on his hips and his stupid, neon blue unitard showing off  _ so _ many delicious assets. It wasn’t fair that he could look so damn sexy when pissed off. 

“Now listen here, Sammy—“

“No. You especially can’t play this ridiculous song,” Sam said. “If you’re going to make all of our ears bleed, then at least make it a halfway decent one.”

“What? Like your shitty massage music? My class can’t dance to wind chimes and the sound of waves,  _ Sam! _ ”

Okay, that stung. He hated it when Gabe used his real name. It meant that things weren’t good, and Sam was getting nervous all over again. He had to get the control back—and fast. 

“Not music like that,” Sam said. “Just better music.”

Gabe scoffed. “Are you high? Is that what this is all about?”

Sam flushed and glanced around the room at all of the elderly students who were staring at the two of them as though watching a ping pong match. “I’m not  _ high _ , cripes!”

He was wondering if he should just apologize and say he wasn’t feeling well when he caught Mildred’s eye. She gave him a comforting smile and a single nod. And then she winked. 

_ He could do this. He could.  _

“I meant, music like this.”

From behind him, leaning into the doorway, Cas pressed the universal remote that Sam had bought the previous year and clicked a few buttons. Next to him, Dean was filming with his camera phone, not that Gabriel noticed a thing. 

Before he could second guess himself, Sam moved to stand in the center of the room, with Mildred on one side and Frank, of all people, on the other. The older man had grumbled quite a bit when Sam had first approached him, but in the end, he’d come through. Frank was reliable that way. 

Just as he took one last cleansing breath, the music began. And it was  _ horrible _ —at least in Sam’s opinion. But this wasn’t for him.

_ ‘Crazy...Baby, I'm so into you! You got that something, what can I do?’ _

Immediately, Sam began moving to the music in the choreography that the Senior Slide class had taught him. 

The whole class had been happy to help in his endeavor and had come to the gym after hours for a month to teach him the moves that they used for the Eden Slide. Even Frank had shown up and demonstrated for Sam. He was eternally grateful for the group of senior citizens who had given their time, effort, and patience to make this go off without a hitch. 

Next to him, Mildred and Frank were executing the moves, albeit far better than Sam, which was slightly embarrassing for the tall yoga instructor. 

_ ‘You drive me crazy, I just can't sleep! I'm so excited, I'm in too deep!’ _

Gabriel’s mouth was hanging open in absolute shock as Sam danced with the old folks to none other than the Queen of Pop. Sam knew he probably looked borderline insane, he felt as though he was, and Dean had initially laughed so hard he’d cried when Sam had told him the plan. 

Focusing solely on Gabriel, Sam made eye contact with the other man as much as he could. He could hear the whole Senior Slide class behind him, dancing along to the music. It was utterly ridiculous, and Sam knew that it was also perfect. 

_ ‘Every time I look at you—my heart is jumping, what can I do?’ _

He executed a spin, and almost lost his balance. He could hear both Dean and Frank snickering, but Mildred touched his arm as she kept up with the footwork and smiled reassuringly at him. Sam was emboldened once more. He wasn’t making a complete ass of himself for no reason—there was a purpose to this. 

Standing before him, Gabriel had now crossed his arms over his chest, and was watching him intently with a lascivious smirk on his face. 

_ ‘You drive me crazy, I just can't sleep! I'm so excited, I'm in too deep!’ _

This was it. The finale. Behind him, the whole group ended the bouncy nineties song on the same move, except for Sam. As the last ‘ _ Baby _ ’ echoed through the room, he ran a few steps and dropped to his knees, sliding forward until he ended up directly in front of Gabriel. The smooth material of his tear away pants made for a fast slide and he was on his knees at Gabe’s feet in seconds, just as the last word of the song sounded out.

_ ‘You drive me crazy, but it feels alright! Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night!’ _

On the last word, Sam lifted his right knee and froze. He knew that the Senior Slide Class was behind him watching and he knew that Dean and Cas were filming from the door. Suddenly the nerves seemed overwhelming as he reached into his workout pants and pulled out the small, black velvet box. 

Sam’s hands shook as he opened it, revealing the ring.

It was plain titanium, (because Gabe had a tendency to break things), with one single diamond set into the band so that it was flush with the rest of the ring. It was simple and elegant; everything that Gabriel wasn’t. He was chaos and complicated.

Which was why Sam loved him. 

“What the hell, Samshine? Are you sick? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

“Shut up,” Sam said. “This isn’t the time for your... _ you _ .”

“That’s a great start, kiddo.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed the box closer to his boyfriend. “Gabriel,” he said, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “For the last year, you have been the bane of my existence and the love of my life. I never understood how someone could be everything to another person...until I met you. You’re everything that I’ve ever wanted. And even though sometimes I want to smack and shake you, you always make me want to kiss and love you. Without you, I wouldn’t have as much fun—“

“—Or such great sex,” Gabe interrupted. 

“You are  _ ruining _ this you asshole!” 

Gabe just smirked and then licked his lips, which threw Sam completely off, remembering those lips around his cock the night before. 

“Well?” Gabe said. “Are you going to finish?”

“I’m trying,” Sam said snappily. “Look. You’re insane. And you eat too much candy—I found chocolate melted into our sheets last week.”

“That was from when we—“

“I  _ know _ !”

Behind him, he could hear Dean and Cas muttering “Ew.”

“Anyway, I fucking love you, will you just take the damn ring and marry me?”

“Hells yeah, kiddo.” Gabriel didn’t hesitate and launched himself at Sam, throwing his arms around his fiancée’s neck, toppling both of them to the floor.

Gabriel’s lips crashed into his and their teeth clicked as his lover slid his tongue into Sam’s mouth. As they kissed on the floor, Dean shouted happily and the Senior Sliders applauded and cheered. 

It might not have been the most conventional of proposals, but it fit them. A year ago, Sam would have never expected to be in this situation, but he was ecstatic that he was. He was so grateful that Dean went behind his back that day and hired Gabriel Novak to shake things up at Singer Fitness. Without a little betrayal, a lot of practical jokes, and one crazy hot night, he wouldn’t be engaged to the man of his dreams. 

Maybe craze classes weren’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this little fic. I hope that y’all enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. Remember to stay safe out there, drink your water, and be kind.

**Author's Note:**

> 🍭I am on Tumblr as crowley-loves-usuk if anyone feels the urge to follow or message me. I love talking to readers! 🍭


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